I remember myself as a child―
sitting with wild hair and bare feet in the screened porched,
watching the rain splash on the patio.
I was dry,
but the world moving around me
was wet and thriving―
The trees clearly more alive than me.
And off in the distance,
I would have heard the whistle of the diesel train
as it passed through the center of town.
I am old now,
and almost tame.