CC Bloom Poet Free verse

Calico Critters

Ashlie's animal house
was bigger than mine.
She drank Red Rose
tea with milk
and honey.
We were in fourth
grade at Park Road
Elementary school. 

Now I wish for things
I cannot hold or collect:
playing Four Square
at recess,
more melted
popsicles, time
with my dad,
or roller skating
backwards, just to
show off.

I never, sometimes
wish on pennies
or miss my grand-
mother with a shade
of self-pity.
She is still busy
playing bridge with
Uncle Bill in heaven.
No time to waste
on emotional
self-indulgence.  No time
and too little daylight
for frivolous
reflections.

I also have
a handful of dimes
that I don't want
to throw away,
and today.

when I was 10,
Tahira was still
healthy and she didn't
wish or ponder over
silly pennies.
 
I never, sometimes
see myself in a pool
of shining zinc
mirrors.  They don't
offer circular
understanding.

My son Ben saves
his change for tomorrow
and he sees an ocean
of sparkling coins
up in an ocean of black
winking white dots
at night.
They are his future possibilities.
He rarely wants
for what was
or falls into
the cavity of regret
that will hollow out
his heart, if he allows
himself to pine
for something
behind him.

"Ben, I don't want
to do sixth grade
over again.  Now
is your moment.
I am learning
other lessons
now.

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