Tumble to Thimble

by Teresa Bateman

When I was young and tumble

my life was greens and pinks,

with rounds and squares

and shorts and talls

and any kind of feel at all,

with promises in winks.

The holidays were orange,

with brown, creased grocery sacks,

or greens and reds

or reds and whites

or red, white, blue against the night

and sometimes blues and blacks.

Then I grew older

colors didn’t feel the same to me;

blacks and whites

but also grays

would dominate my times and days;

they weren’t as clear to see.

Now I am old and thimble,

the colors clear and bright,

the squares and rounds

and talls and shorts

and almost any feel, of sorts,

I’ve earned, they’re mine by right.

Yet I will always wonder

as I see the tumble play

If all of them will make it

to the thimble

past the

gray.

Photos by Roberto S. Herrera Jr.