This may be a little..." niche" as the young kids say, and niche only to my own experiences. I hope that, though you may not understand every reference, you can feel the underlying notions and the plea from me to never forget the little moments, though so seemingly insignificant in the heat of it, that will become those amazing days. Those good old days.
isn't it crazy
that from now on, you are the youngest you'll ever be
in this second moment. Count to three.
isn't it wild
that sometimes for awhile
you forget what it's like to be a child
to learn, to ask why, to try to touch the sky
fly high
so do you remember the smell of your kindergarten classroom
the perfume your teacher wore
taught you never to keep score
unless its guessing jellybeans in a jar
do you remember when you got so many hugs
and your face did that squish smoosh into a funny land
called a soft stomach
but now it's rumbling, your favorite time
the day is almost done
do you remember when you danced with green clouds
this one's for you
we're still growing up, not at the top
but when you're down there
it doesn't seem so far
do you remember when you
counted the rainforests from the confines of a fourth-grade room
with carte blanc in your back pocket
never used.
that was never fair anyway.
remember the howling wind
that knocked over trees and
fell them to their knees
safe, curled in a hallway
safe, so let's stay
remember when you wanted to
join the ballet for a day
for many moons, twenty seventeen
until you la-di-daed across that stage
when you finally did
Remember the time you
dressed up in a silver gown
and looked like a baked potato
or a burrito at best
and walked across that stage
as the fireworks lit up the black
and illuminated the paper in your hand
that granted you with a ticket
out of town, to a place with more paper
to one day receive
do you know
that these moments
and this very moment
are the elusive
good old days?
