Childhood

By Melissa Baron

The world is a back yard

An empire of green grass, gardens, and fences,

Conquered by curiosity and boredom on a hot day

Or a cool one, or any day at all, really.

Every rock, rose, and rabbit tunnel explored

By small questing hands and bare feet

Where grass is cool and sweet on soles and toes,

And rocks sharp on tender flesh as the chase is halted

By jagged edges in the roses’ rock haven.

When happiness is a cold glass of water,

Quenching parched throats in the summer heat,

A playmate with imagination miles wide,

And love waiting just inside the sliding glass door

Wearing a smile.