Now that I’m old:
I can enter any of my previous ages
with the snap of a finger.
One of my favourites is:
“being 5 years old”.
Mind you, I had to do a soul retrieval
to liberate my 5 year old self from a prison
built of fear. But now,
she’s with me whenever I invite her in
and she bubbles up with joy,
with excitement,
with silly rhymes and skipping rhythms,
and when my old knee is sore,
it’s just a swivel of the hip
and a nodding of the head,
but it’s a rhythm and a joy
and if you think I’m boasting
I’ll just stick out my tongue at you,
so there.
