When I was young, I sat on cinderblock thrones with dandelions in my hair.
When I was young, I lived in snowball bushes and slept in truck beds bouncing along gravel roads.
When I was young, I danced on feet swollen from beestings.
When I was young, I lit my path with dollar store sparklers.
When I was young, I raced matchbox cars along dead tree limbs and I didn’t know the difference.
When I was young, I cried because flowers died in the fall.
When I was young, I went to family reunions at funeral homes.
When I was young, I understood death better than the rest.