Orchestrating Rubber

Orchestrating Rubber

Defences lowered with frozen rubber bands,

Exhausted pieces of insignificance in the snow

Running and rolling (when they tell you to be flexible),

Hiding in the fibres of the carpet

Stained with pencil lead and finger paint,

Oozing a royal blue while thawing (but afraid to melt)

Edging further away from the fiery-red juice stains

Yet somehow closer to the sun-covered clouds with a spring

― Not in step, mind you; no birds sing so cheerfully when they can see,

Mistaken for a twig, or something not nearly so childish

And hiding in a puddle (now a worm, perhaps?) in front of their beaks,

A bright blue― and painted yellow? It’s lucky that preschoolers are messy;

Hopefully it’s all washable and will wear off in a day

…But then again, yellow can be much less than a lion;

Cowardice can stain and recur past a four-year-old’s comprehension―

Argue it’s pacifism if you must, but it takes more to convince a worm,

(A frozen rubber band clutching at the blue carpet in desperation)

That if it had tried, it could have snapped.

“Could have” is all that’s noticed.