Growing

Standing at the white porcelain sink

with stiff foam bristles scraping your teeth,

try to remember the days 

your reflection hovered out of sight. 

Recall swinging your feet 

back and forth and bouncing

from the height of your dinner chair

and try to ask yourself,

is ten minutes long?

Once it seemed like an eternity. 

Listen to a storm's debate.

Thunder and lighting.

Compare them to gods and 

the voices of parents. 

Ask small questions and 

Cling to a small piece of that confidence

from the years we spent as small giants.

Taller, now, we're more afraid.

Growing up is like stepping

on a stair that falls away

and suddenly you're plunging.

It starts with the smell 

of a frozen pizza's bubbling cheese

and waiting alone for your own dinner.

That first time, you'll burn your finger 

on the blistering rack.

You'll have to get your own band-aid.