Childhood should be carefree.
The hardest thoughts should be -
which tree to hide behind
So they won’t find me!
Colors of chalk
on the sidewalk.
What to draw today?
Which frilly dress
from the old wooden trunk will I pick?
Which bobble of beads from mom’s jewelry bin
Shall I loop around my neck and spin
like the ballerina atop a music box.
Running free on the water’s edge,
chasing sand dollars down the beach
as far as the eye could see and within reach.
These are what memories of childhood should be.
The jingle jangle of the ice cream truck
on a sunny summer day.
We immediately stop our play
and run;
First to mom for money,
then to the street to beat
the neighbor kids and be first in line
for a treat.
Childhood should be unfettered
of burdens and worry.
The qualms and cares of the world
in a hurry to destroy itself
should burden the shoulders of others.
Not brothers
or sisters.
Not the children.
Not the children.
I was their protector,
defender, guardian and guide;
They trusted me, to be their god
who would heal and deal
with pain and strife
of life;
How could I know
That I was not protecting them.
Enough?
© 2010 Marlene Dunham