18 September 2009



My world is larger than yours, Reader.
I delight in unturned stones,
In toadstools and butterflies.
Strange words that rhyme
Make me giggle and chant.
I imagine hidden worlds,
Monsters and fairy rings.
Roses, to me, are redder
Because I see each one.
Toys and insects are all
Actors in fascinating stories,
But I cannot yet decipher letters
Or perhaps even write my name.
Singing loudly, for me,
Does not require a car,
Or a shower.
When I see a rainbow,
I shout to you in excitement,
And you, for my sake, deign to
Repeat my exclamation;
But you did not experience the wonder -
You, who have read of science
And of refracted light.
For now, my cage holds only
Colorful balls, wild abandon
And innocence.
How sad that I, the meek,
Who have only just
Inherited the earth,
Will learn from you
To trade it in for
Money, alcohol, sex,
And a handbag that
Matches my shoes.

That girl in Switzerland

1 comment:

  1. Excellent! It hurts me to see an innocent child, and to imagine them as a 'hardened' adult in a few years. Lately, I've also been thinking about children who's lives are torn by the selfish living of their parents. That poem definitely strikes a nerve.