Saturday Poetry

The Days of Children

By Billie Daddario

The wind blowing the long grass across the prairie

looks like ocean wave hues of brown and tan.

The dust swirls and settles and swirls again.

The field birds flying sideways in the wind

trying to catch a draft.

The three of us running down the street for home.

Laughing for the day was long and fun, and we were so dirty.

Brown and white lines of our skin where the clothes covered up.

The long day. The long night. We spent together as children.

Making mud in the tub when we washed our feet and legs.

These were the days of children.

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