Turning ten
I’m ill at ease
worse than headaches and sunburn
and skinning my knees
Turning ten
the idea feels old
chicken pox of the heart
got mumps in my soul
You forgot
how simple is one
at two, only sunlight
was under my skin
A wizard at four
invisible at six
a soldier at seven
at nine, magic tricks
I feel late
as the afternoon shade
solemnly damps
the treehouse I made
In the garage
my bicycle now leans
drained of its spark
and all the dark blue speed
Turning ten
the sadness begins
say fond goodbye
to my make-believe friends
When you cut me, I’d shine
that’s what I believed
but now my knees hit the sidewalk
they open and bleed
Copyright © 2006 Tom Ross, www.mijazi.com