Growing Up

I wish now, that i was still a small child. Huddled in the safety of my mothers arms.

We promised that forever
We’d never grow too old
To dig up clay with our stubby
Fingernails, and let it cook
In the scorching summer sun,
And bite our lips with concentration
As we pound down spades
In an intense game of spit,
And lie perfectly still together
Until we fell asleep under a castle
Of sheets and beach chairs.
We didn’t know that forever
Was as empty as the teacups
We sipped from and as real
As the games we dreamed up.