An uncomfortable seat,
A freezing cold room,
A heart filled with pride.
I sit quietly,
caught between
bewilderment and
happiness.
How did the years fly?
We were playing with dolls,
making "cakes" for Grandma,
laying on floor pillows
bathed in the light
of an ancient television.
We were piling into the white van
that always moaned and groaned,
but never gave out on us.
We were pulling out the tea set,
marveling at the fact that
the colors changed with the temperature.
We were hunting for treasures in the garden,
Hands caked with mud,
Dirt trapped under out fingernails.
We were making potions out of garden herbs
Stirring and chanting
Believing we could create magic.
We were looking for adventure under every brick,
Amazed by the many legged creepy-crawlies that
Scuttled to avoid the light.
We were hiding in the bushes
thinking we were Indians.
We were sharing secrets as we fell asleep,
Our half-said words falling on tired ears.
We were dancing around the living room,
Pretending we were the planets about to collide.
We were there,
We were young.
But now we're here.
I'm watching you walk across the stage
Adorned with cap and gown.
And I ask myself,
How will my years fly?