I wandered through
a schoolground today
filled with little people
playing, laughing, oblivious bliss
I saw a child
laying in dirt
having leaves and bark
kicked upon her
I stopped, gently telling
the child to cease kicking.
The group froze and looked
like I was Authority.
“She won’t let me play”
said the kicker of dirt.
The other responded
the game was for two, never three
I spoke to them, and
solved their problems.
Their tiny faces angled upwards
listening...attending my words
I wondered why
they cared what I said,
or even listened to me
at all.
As I left them,
knowing they watched, I realised
I would not be accepted, and
to them, I am old.
I am a grown-up.
A force, a knowledge
Of unfathomable years
Like their parents and teachers.
So I looked mirrorward
And saw circles of darkness
Beneath myopic brown eyes
Saw folds of skin they call wrinkles
A real-bodied woman
Full breasts, broad shoulders
A waist the same height
As the tops of their heads.
How silly to be shocked
By this daily vision
I have obviously ignored
Since... I don’t know when.
Damn kids.
Copying this work to another webpage without author permission is plagiarism.
Plagiarism is a misdemeanor, usually punishable by fines of $100-$50000 and up to one year in jail.
Comments on Let Them Kick Dirt