I was the baby born of
Spring and Summer,
arriving too late to be cold
but too early to be burnt.
Once I held a silver fish in my hands
and watched it wriggle under the water
until I let it escape into the shallows.
Lost more friends than I can count on a finger
but made just as many that I won't lose.
I've nursed a fallen blue-jay chick back to health
only to watch him die the next day.
I've only seen one snowstorm
but I've seen more rainstorms
than most people can say.
Years ago, I saw a bat crawl around
on my sister's head
and did nothing but call my father.
I used to have three good friends:
one tall and dark-haired,
the other tall and blonde,
and the last scrawny, Jewish and pale.
One has gone, two remain, pale and blonde
like the beginning of each day.
I've been called a jerk
and I've agreed
but I never agreed when I was called
a softy until recently.
A boy named Alex
used to hate me on the soccer field
because of one tumble
but we were friends at the end of the season.