LOST ART

By John Yurgens

When did I lose the art of playing?

When did I lose the gift of pretending?

A young child swimming in the lake early summer

When asked, “How can you stay in there that long the water is so cold”?

I pretend it isn’t.  I can’t do that, not sure I ever could.

Early winter morning waiting for my bus.

The snow is wet and heavy, perfect for snowballs or even a snowman.

I contemplate getting my knees to start to build a snowman.

I fight the urge I don’t want to start the day wet and cold

I recall as a child wet and cold was a rite of passage of winter.

When did I decide to be responsible?

When did I grow up?

When did I lose the Art of playing?