Goosebumps and Gummy Bears

By: Gillian Knaebel

I am from hard worn leather beneath my feet.
Watching my second home from my favorite place,
4 feet above the ground.
From sounds of gymnastics filling my ears
to a layer of chalk and sweat that coats everything from my
legs to the inside of my throat
It chokes me and tastes thick, and starchy with every breath,
but it doesn’t matter.

I’m from the willow tree that hangs in the yard,
Stories that dance underneath until the last breath of summer
has been taken
From the goosebumps that engulf my arms as I dive in
into the books and into the pool
Swallowed by cool water and churning minds
I’m cold as winter takes my willow
But it doesn’t really matter.

I’m from shouts of “here I come,” and pulling my best friend
into a closet.
“Up” I mouth, and she nods. We climb to the top shelf and
wedge ourselves in the small space
until we sit facing each other, cross legged, the cool surface of
the wall pressing into our backs.
I’m from her mysterious little bag she pulls from behind her
back,
And the small something she pops into her mouth.
Then one into my own.
A certain sweet smell dances in my nose as I bite down and
realize what she’s given me.
A gummy bear.
Grape.
I giggle and my brother finds us,
but it doesn’t really matter,

I’m from “grandma’s sweet ’n rich chocolate cake”
From the gentle clatter of dinner utensils, and not so gentle
conversations,
My Zadie at one end of the table
My brother at the opposite, both loud and shouting.
I am from ”what’s the difference between ignorance and
apathy”
“I don’t know, and I don’t care”
Bellowing laughs, slamming hands, and shaking tables.
I have a headache, but who cares,

I’m from the faded blue la-Z-boy,
kids cartoons,
104 days of summer vacation
Baby diapers and the worn changing table,
From time for stories
To my mother’s muffled “be right there”
I’m so tired, but I’ll go anyway

Realizing

That sacrifice comes easy, when it’s something you love.