19. As a child they couldn't keep me from the grass From the morning as the sun rose & the keeper opened the gate Returning only when my father called Saying it was dark It was late. I walked back, my hand in his hand, Asking a thousand questions Which had grown, all day, inside of me And he- my father- A big man (Who slowly grew smaller) Laughed & suddenly- Woosh! He lifted me up on his shoulders So that with my hands around his head I travelled as if I was part of him. At that moment (Which seemed forever) I had no questions left: I had been answered, unburdened: I was free.