I would hide from life when little.
I could sense something awful coming into being–
me having to deal with an expanding
understanding of the adult world.
Those big people didn’t get it about squirrels,
the stickiness of walnut tree leaves,
wind swinging and making things sing.
The more I looked out,
the more frightened I would become.
The fear would fill me enough
to make me want to pull back in,
safely away from life.
Now that years of figuring have evened out some,
I spot a gentler pace ahead.
The hiding place is still here close by,
only easier to approach and love.