…pick a daisy in the grass
by the creek at the dam
chasing butterflies.
Homework assigned!
Capture the crickets
and their friend
the grasshopper,
a problem, this was not.
But to stick a pin in the thorax, well…
it seemed barbaric at the time!
Spinning dreams in the sunshine
with the breeze at my neck,
running fast
my feet would carry me,
seemed more sublime!
The civilized ruled
an F was divine.
As mother told me:
“It doesn’t matter!
That grade is not of thine
but of those who seek a feather
to put in their scholastic hat,
and say:
‘The best collection was done by a student of mine!'”
And so I got an A for living,
for freedom,
to inhale fresh air,
while others worried about growing up,
I thought, “I never will!”
And better yet,
the horse I ride
out to pasture to dine,
where it dawns on me that having the right answer
is a mistake…
and wish it not to be mine!
On Tiffany Creek 