I wanna wear rainbow-striped leggings like Carly
or a bright pink tutu with Zoe’s sparkly shirt.
I’d like pigtails or a vivid
purple flower clipped
in my hair.
I’d like to run with abandon
hollering after a ball
and do a leaping high five
when I catch it.

I want to jump rope–double-dutch, in fact–
“Ice cream, Ice cream
cherry on top
How many boyfriends
do you got?”
and count As High as I Can
until I miss

I want to skip away with my friends
and giggle at a joke,
without a care in the world.

But alas,
I’m here in the background
standing still, dressed in
blase black and khaki,
watching from afar
with a whistle and a name tag
around my neck–Official-Looking–
and bewildered by all these rules,
remembering My Schedule,
keeping things in line…
wishing I was 6 years old again,
even if just for a day.

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