He hops down the front porch steps in faded denim jeans
arms and legs a-kimbo, mind flush with fantasies
a kick of the earth, a soaring leap, a slap of an old oak tree
He winces and yelps – looks back – then giggles mischievously
Boy can he run (he’ll show you!) and crawl and jump and fight
show off wrestling moves on Dad with all his might
He gets grown ups, talks their talk, knows the responsibility
Get married, buy a house, find a job, and that’s just the beginning
But for now he lives in these jeans, he wears them all the time,
this hole is from his bike, that tear is from his climb
Mom says he’ll grow big soon, they’ll have to buy new ones
but she says that every day, and tomorrow hasn’t come
And if tomorrow does, he’ll hardly see himself
A boy now big and strong, he’ll look like someone else
and on that day he’ll think, of those faded folded jeans
lying in a bedroom drawer, a denim time machine
This poem was inspired by Rainer Rilke’s A Child in Red.