The Child In You

Jumping, running, whirling, spinning, laughing. They are tumbling now, down, the hill, into the leaf pile. A handful of leaves are thrown high in the air. The child soul of you wishes that you were down there rolling in that pile, But you know you cannot be. Not anymore. Not like you want to. Your torn ACL Your arthritis Your equilibrium Your sore shoulder And your neck ache holds you hostage, watching, remembering, The child in you wants to jump and run and whirl and twirl in that leaf pile. Twenty years ago you would be in that leaf pile, rolling and laughing The fear of breaking something, or reinjuring your knee holds you back for a second. Then the ornery takes over. Watch out! You yell! I’m coming! You lie on the ground and roll about an inch. The grandchildren howl with laughter. And you do too.