Initially, my Mom would have to yell and pry,

Kids need to play outside!

Sullen reluctance yanked myself

from the book pages,

lost the soft, slurry comfort with

scent of aged vanilla.

Growling inwardly

stood, blinking at the white light-

a myopic underground creature

out of their element.

A slow warm to sharp blue

skies of the fall,

until I saw the beauty in the shimmery

mud, swirling at my touch

warm rays dripped down my shoulders and spilled off my wrists,

fingers

strangest kind of

pleasure with small forts, dams

in the creek.

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