futurebird's Diaryland Diary

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coup de�maturity

coup de�maturity

Nothing stays in place
in the cool, sandy spot
near the peeling porch.
There, I lost my marbles.

Sand and glass in my nails,
mouth tastes like gritty tears.
I move aside the earthworms;
digging up clay chunks.

Once, long, long ago--
the street lamps would wink at me,
the bicycle sang of my graces,
the sidewalk clip-clopped "hello!"
Even all alone, I was Perfectly Visible.

As a fresh-eyed child
in pink Allstars, I was king.
I claimed everything I saw;
I was seen by every object.

But, nothing is immune to movement:
walking past hopscotchers I cringed,
afraid of the superball

it might shatter me--
(and the children laughed at me.)

Where is my paper crown?
WHO TOOK MY GOLDEN CAT�S EYE!????
What scoundrel wrought
the coup of maturity?

Give 'em back to me.

020628_87.html - 2002-06-28

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