When I Was Little: A Poem

I am eight years old

Sitting in a green lawn

Speckled with wild dandelions


Picking one from the grass

I remember to make a wish

The flurries disperse

With the wind’s quick motion


I hear birds converse distances away

Their happy and fast chirps

masked by the rustles of trees

Curiously I wonder

what they talk about


Right beside me

A black ant trails

through the maze of grass

He burrows into a tunnel of soil

And suddenly disappears


I want to know what it’s like

To fly in the air

or live below the ground

Or be a plant reaching for the sky


All I know now

Is that I am eight years old