Childhood
Remove the speck from my eye
With the corner of your hanky.
Tear the bandage off my knee
Then douse the hurt with iodine.
But do not put French braids in my hair
That pull my eyes toward my ears.
Let me play in tar
And make mud pies for lunch.
I want to run on hot and humid days
And lie in the cool grass at night.
Let me keep caterpillars that will
morph into butterflies.
And fly away.
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Love ya!
Jane