Growing Up

Kindred cartwheels

spread like a virus

from child to child.

The cotton candy machine

spins discarded hair

like it was cotton.

The children are always awed

by the taste

of old age on their tongues.

Behind the tent,

parents time stamp

the infants

and tattoo names on each other.

Little rollercoasters

struggle for an

adolescent speed.

One thought on “Growing Up”

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