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Description
I think a long time ago
I was brave
I would worm without question into close embraces;
see colors and shapes the way new eyes do;
the rain wouldn't numb my pale arms or road-worn legs
as I played with stray dogs and village girls;
I would spit at the dust and not think of rabies
or the cow's sponge-rot that lurks in my cerebrum;
and I visited a crocodile farm, once,
not hearing the joke about the one-legged man -
pensive, rather, in the way I knew so confidently,
soles slapping against the winding camp road,
(brother gangling, father tall and bearded, mother
as warm as rice balls and peanut sauce,
as strong as dark arms pounding each spice,
as bold as any stranger on a distant shore)
that the end wouldn't come
any time soon.

Description
I think a long time ago
I was brave
I would worm without question into close embraces;
see colors and shapes the way new eyes do;
the rain wouldn't numb my pale arms or road-worn legs
as I played with stray dogs and village girls;
I would spit at the dust and not think of rabies
or the cow's sponge-rot that lurks in my cerebrum;
and I visited a crocodile farm, once,
not hearing the joke about the one-legged man -
pensive, rather, in the way I knew so confidently,
soles slapping against the winding camp road,
(brother gangling, father tall and bearded, mother
as warm as rice balls and peanut sauce,
as strong as dark arms pounding each spice,
as bold as any stranger on a distant shore)
that the end wouldn't come
any time soon.