The air is like the milk chocolate
We pressed in our mouths
When the day was yellowish-gold
And the grass, twisted and sweet
Like green licorice.
I do not mind
That the days were never long enough,
And that when we waved our hands
In the smoky dusk,
And felt the thin sweat of daylight
Drip down our necks
We were not fully satisfied.
There was never enough time
To grow up
Between the flower crowns
And sand buckets
The thick trees and wide rivers,
But we did.
And I know we are better for it—
Better, fuller, deeper,
But still not satisfied
Wow Kristy. That was life, and it sounded so sweet.
I absolutely love this. You draw on some important thoughts–we enjoy life by remembering experiences that were essential but not enough. We are always looking for something more, something that will satisfy us completely, and that longing is what drives us on. Your image of the waving hands and the thin sweat of daylight perfectly captures the feeling at the end of such a wonderful but insufficient experience. I really like the paradox you bring up–there was never enough time, and yet there was enough, and we don’t understand how it happened, because we blinked, and it was done. Good work.
mmmm…. I love this! I love the childlike imagery (flower crowns and sand buckets). Yet, we are never satisfied… so true. Love this a ton! and you!
Kris, I agree with all the above comments. This is a wonderful poem and it nostalgically conjures up a bittersweet emotion that all people who have to grow up feel. And that’s everybody, (except maybe peter pan)
I smiled and then laughed. Actually laughed.