Give me back my child hood
Tree’s turn black, the first bat comes
towards a lawn chair, grazing its high back.
Sticks fly up, thrown by boys to attract
more bats. I hear father’s voice, see mother
stand hands akimbo on her porch.
A hot one, & they turn sprinklers on.
Droplets spatter halters, arms & legs.
Hares and squirrels round
us up, we’re done for, the vacant lot
quiet til tomorrow afternoon after
we’ve done the expected, escaped
the prison of learning to be one like
another when none of us know
what little time we have. Susan least of all.
Stephen with his collarbone cast, Ellen
whose mother dies long before anyone
is a child or can have children who bear
more of same into this motley world
where one puts up with it. Doles it out.