I Found a Special Stick

The mind of a young child

We are returning from a walk,
a springtime stroll around the block.

Mom's tummy is big and quite soon,
she 'll have a new baby in June.

Our home is not far away
when I see something colored gray.

I spot a stick . . . the perfect size;
it will be great with my disguise.

I'm sure I can handle the task,
a superhero with a mask.

My mom won't let me swat the sky;
she watches with a careful eye.

She's distracted by my brother,
who just tossed his blanket cover.

I see a tree that's big and fat . . .
"take this, take that, you roadside rat!"

My mom hears me, then turns around;
she sees my stick drag on the ground.

When we get home my dad will play;
I'm sure he's wanted to all day.

He will show me a brand new trick,
something wonderful with my stick.

Maybe we'll use it as a tool,
or say, "on guard" and fight a duel.

We'll carve our names in the sand
and fight the bad guys of the land.