Small child, big Sandbox
The bench tied to the big dog
Big kids digging a hole to China
Little cousins drinking from the sprinkler
Pigeons and Squirrels and big birds that don’t look like Pigeons that eat the Pigeons and Squirrels
Soft feet, hard gravel
Paw Patrol Band-Aids and Paw Patrol fruit snacks
Jumping off the fireman pole into the sandbox because they can fly
Raincloud, muddy knee, small child, big sandbox
The stickers on the lamp posts that don’t go away. That is God. Embedded in my scalp under my hair where I can not see, there is God.
Through the knotweed. Down the ladder made of tree roots. Up onto the big rock. By the river. I stand, mud on my ankle and cuts on my knees. The sun sits just barely above the trees as the sweat sits just above my brow.
If you told me that destiny was real. That everything that would ever happen was predetermined. You know what I would do differently? Nothing. Why should I? Who cares that you were meant to read this? You have, and now it is over.
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