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Poetry of Issue #8        Page 1

Child’s Play

As a toddler, I sat
in a brownstone’s backyard
in exquisite simplicity.
I didn’t know the world
of battles, of assassinations,
of deceit, of espionage.
I was familiar with
worms pumping their way
across lumpy soil.
I played with the creatures,
the helpless things,
coaxing then with twigs
to move their cool flesh.
Other critters crawled around.
I never learned the name
of the cute bugs
with the hard-shell backs.
Their many legs
were as thin and fine
as lines in a human iris.
I acted mean toward them,
erecting barriers for them to tackle,
obstacles of rocks and wood.
They were my cosmos;
I was their god.
I should have known
they needed love,
not interference.
Too much cruelty
thrives like a thoughtless child
on our planet.

  Austin Alexis