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.