Children

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Children play on the swing set.
Five teeth, more or less, gleaming
Eyes like owls, chasing one another
With infinite imaginations beaming
Troubles are ants, so miniscule
Drool an inch thick around their mouth
And to this day I am still amazed,
How everyone asks,
“Can you believe you were that little once?”
But my response is more than unusual, and true
“Little?” I ask, “Do you see them as that?
Because I see them as people bigger than me
We are the dunces and they the kings
Bigger than us all, because they see
What we don’t, a very simple thing,
The emotion of happiness
Upon their swings, the children play
And I envy every morsel.
We may be trees and them the twigs,”
But with a smile I say,
“Little is the new big.”





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