Child Runaway

I was a child runaway
inspired by hobos and train hoppers
possessions in a pillowcase
thrown over my shoulder
(no harmonica, though).

The farthest I got
was the strip of woods
at the edge of my cal-de-sac .
I dug a hole to house my goods
and dined on canned pears.

It got colder after sunset
but I had forgotten my jacket.
The bathing suit wouldn’t do
and I couldn’t start the fire.
I went back home and had a bath.

I think next time I run away from home,
I bring along my mother.
She always knew how
to strike a match
and pack a coat
and draw a bath.

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