SIPPING INNOCENCE<\/strong><\/p>\n

Letting go of balloons.
\nPink and red rising,
\nfinding the sunlight and fighting the wind.
\nSimpler days,
\ndream soaked nights.
\nFruit never that sweet again.<\/p>\n

Turning around, turning away,
\nhearing the sound of running
\nand it’s your own feet.
\nIt’s not a yearning
\nthat inspires these recollections;
\nbut an aching for those moments
\nwhen your eyes were smaller
\nand a little brighter
\nand your brain was still growing.
\nAs you counted
\nyour fingers and toes
\nyou laughed with
\ndiscovery and satisfaction.<\/p>\n

Caterpillars ate the green.
\nButterflies pranced from petal to sky.
\nAnd sometimes after it rained
\nworms contorted from
\nthe edge of the sidewalk
\nto the center of concrete.<\/p>\n

One day, older children
\npassed on the secrets of
\ncatching frogs\u201a and feeding squirrels.
\nEverything else mom and dad
\ntried to articulate
\nwith the help of
\npicture books and TV cartoons.<\/p>\n

Was it lost or never owned,
\nthe clarified song whistled
\nsoon after birth?
\nYou clapped along but
\nwhen you started to dance
\nthe waist and what’s below
\nmoved desire into survival
\nand recognition into time.<\/p>\n

The moisture craved
\nhad to be supplied
\nby another’s willing tenderness.
\nIt won’t be long before you brood,
\nwondering why you’re dwelling
\non that part of your past
\nwhen each thought was new.
\nIs your darkness too fierce
\nor your daylight so hectic
\nthat you now must remember
\nhow it felt when you first understood
\nblood is beneath the skin.<\/p>\n

Copyright held by author-1995<\/strong><\/em><\/p>\n