I watched you run
in circles at the concert,
dizzying yourself up in time
to your daddy's music.
Around and around
ran your little feet,
clad in miniature white sneakers,
until a stray stranger's foot
caught the tip of yours
and you went crashing down
to the rugged pavement -
knee, then elbow, then head.

If humans left skidmarks,
you would have.

And yet, there was no crying,
no trembling of lip
or doctoring of hurts.
You were simply stunned a moment,
then pushed your 18-month-old self up,
giving your worried and frazzled mom
a huge grin,
and began again to run in circles,
face lit up happily and arms,
if scraped, still in the air.

05/12/2003

Author's Note: Dedicated to the youngest child of the lead singer of Anonymous Bosch, and to all other hardcore kids out there.

Posted on 05/12/2003
Copyright © 2024 Amanda J Cobb