When did I stop sliding on ice
And begin to fear falling down?
I’d creep along the edge of the road,
On my face there’d be a worried frown.
When did I cease climbing a tree,
Or a rope as thick as my wrist?
A “Tarzan” swing hanging from a branch,
Which I’d swing from and yell, “Yippee!”
Did it happen over night this fear of slipping,
Did the tree grow too old or was it me?
Did the rope become too frayed, that I’d been gripping,
Or was the thing that became frayed and old, just me?
When did the tomboy become a girl?
When were the marbles cast aside?
When did the petals wither and curl,
From the daisy chain I wore round my neck?
With childhood pride,
When time at last as gone,
You can’t retrieve it,
And lines begin to multiply on your face,
The mirror tells the truth,
You can’t deceive it,
But in those lines, please do not find disgrace.