Joey

Author's Note:  This poem is the result of a writing activity with my first hour students.

Most four-year-old boys play

Rambunctiously, loudly

Dreaming up dragons and fighting them off

With cardboard steel and flame-proof cotton

Or disappearing into stealth missions

Their cover consisting of skinny trees and short rocks

Convinced of their own invisibility

But

Joey's game is a quiet one

Following along on the outskirts of imagination

Running along with the pack of boys

Yet slightly apart from them as well

Because he knows, already, how to hide

And he knows that dragons can be real

And he knows there is no such thing as invisibility

No matter how tightly your eyes can squeeze shut

Or how hard you cover your ears

To escape the dragon's roar

Joey

Whose smile doesn't reach his eyes