chapter two

i grew up on Daffodil Lane

i got my first scar when i fell off my bike into the grass of our front lawn

my friends and i found a dead rabbit in our back yard,

named it calico,

and held a funeral for it at the park across the street

i packed a knapsack, told my sister i was running away, and stopped on the front porch

because i could hear her crying on the stairs

i never really appreciated the poetic simplicity of my childhood

until today