Ashes, Ashes

Your children’s games of holding hands, skipping–

We ring around the rosey and you marvel at the way centripetal force pulls heavy on our legs.

Your laughs are contagious. Everyone want to join.

They rally to the cause smiling. Laughing

You’ve fistfuls of posies in your hands, in your pockets,

spreading the fragrance and smearing it in our noses.

I once admired your energy and spirit, held you up as my friend, prevented you from falling.

But you were too afraid to tell me you didn’t want me to play.

But I am already in your backyard.

I am the kindergarten teacher?

YOU are a boy, but you are not innocent.