Being Five

Being Five

When I was five I had no idea
That I would be able to remember
Being five

Anyone over 12 was a giant
Mostly friendly ones
Anyone as old as my mother
Was two hundred and fifty at least

Cars were noisy
And fast
And scary
But great to sit in

Girls were silly
But I listened to them
I was a small boat
Teachers lived in ships

When I was five I did not know
That I couldn’t fly
Which is why
I broke my left leg
Sky diving down the stairs
I blame the comic I had read
An hour before

I did not shed tears
There was no pain
But I did cry
Because I couldn’t stand up

The hospital had a strange smell
And people I didn’t know
Were painting my bad leg
Shiny shiny white
With a big plaster
That came from Paris
Just for me

That’s what the doctor said

I learnt to hop quite fast
Around the playground
Making other five year olds laugh
Until I couldn’t scratch
The itchy part

So I climbed the school gates unnoticed
And hopped all the way home
Where my mother was waiting
To take me back to school
But not before putting a knitting needle
Down my leg to calm the itch

©sj2010