A child's holiday could be
A march into the future
Or the past.

Forward, they'd clamber, bodies
Rising high above the doorknobs
And toilet seats which trouble them

Taking on a form they feel they'll
Never own. Then taking their bulk
Behind the front wheels of a

Toyota, prepped and ready
To see the world. Or back,
Back to that glorious birthday

Party, adorned with swirled
Balloons and the pony Mom leased
Grazing in the backyard.

Back to the world of colorful
Imagery, before it stopped
Being okay to paint in rainbows.

06/03/2005

Posted on 06/03/2005
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