we run around the sun
6 year old skinned knees joyfilled golden locks streaming behind the arms held high
was there trouble
did I see concern
were my moments tempered by the thought of fall a loss a break
never
and here I am
my knees free of broken skin the golden locks gone dull and lank my arms held high
to hold the paintbrush aloft
and still my heart
no
my soul
full of wonder and delight
just
enough