I go children slow.

I sleep the sleep, I day the day. I sun the golden eyes of dawn, the green leaves filtering light down into my green grass carpet, action figures actioning.

I nap. I wake and smile and Land of the Giants. I run I kick I jump I dig dirty and bury Yoda not to find him for ten years or more.

I walk the bike I bake the road. So hot. I wreck and cry and I skin and bleed and move. I sit and kiss the dandelions.

I reach for fireflies I keep them safe in my jar, flashing. I empty them and breathe and start again.

I go children slow.