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Poetry of Childhood

SullivanTrainTracksPoem-1

“Years From Now When You Are Weary”

Julia Kasdorf

.

and worn out, wondering how you’ll pay

a bill or make the rent or meet a deadline

.

set by some thoughtless boss — and kid,

such days will come — remember yourself

.

at five: hair light from the sun or just from

being young, new lunchbox pasted

.

with butterflies, how you hung your backpack

on a hook, then wouldn’t let me take your picture

.

on the first day of school, sending me

out of that classroom, to the car, to my job

.

where a pair of bats flapped in the hallway.

Bats may be just bats, but one darted

.

into my office, quick as the boxer’s head

that bobs and weaves and never gets hit.

.

It landed and hung from the drapes, upside

down, as you hung in my body for a while.

.

Bats are not the only flying mammals.

That afternoon in line for the bus, you cried,

.

so tired you thought you’d fall asleep asleep

and miss your stop. Years from now, child,

.

in some helpless dusk, remember that fatigue

but how you made it home to me anyway

.

in the care of a kind farmer – bus driver.

Recall that once I arrived late, your bus

.

gone, and when I found you, carefully seated

by a coffeepot in a corner of a dim garage

.

at the school bus lot, you just said, Let’s go,

Mama. Don’t tell anyone about this.

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