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)
& suddenly-
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.