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.