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.