Sunday, September 28, 2008

small (better title later)

i can still remember now
the days when we were small.
the bathtub was our pirate ship
we jumped, but couldn't fall.

barely children, i and you
were smaller than we ever knew.

we played a game of tug-o-war
i thought to let you win
(or maybe i was paralyzed by
that constant, sweetest grin).

barely children, you and me
were in far deeper than we could see.

but when i tugged, i found that you
had fled the war, and stole the rope.
hitting the ground, i looked and i found
my little hands grasped only hope.

while still a child, you gave to me
my first lesson - too hard, too early.

today they say that i am grown.
i'm older now, but still i own
these same childish hands
these same childish feet
keeping in time to
that same childish beat.

but now -

i know a jump will bring a fall
and my city bathtub's far too small.

maybe one day i will forget
these things that i now know
i'll tell my feet their work's complete
and small, smaller i'll grow.