Playing In The Dirt Poem by Jim Yerman

She is 15 months old…this beautiful little squirt
she likes nothing more than walking barefoot everywhere
and playing in the dirt.

In fact she loves dirt so much…(her parents tell us with a moan)
they believe she thinks dirt is a food group all its own.

I love to watch her play…in her world both simple and complex
because you never know exactly where her feet will take her next.

While watching the purity and innocence in one so young and new
I'm reminded of the things I did as a child…that I can no longer do.

How I walked barefoot everywhere when I was just a little squirt
How, while playing outside, I also ate my share of dirt.

How I could laugh at noises…or something silly my parents said
How I could start singing and dancing
listening only the music in my head.

How I loved to run and run and run…loved finger paints and art
How in the store I liked nothing better than riding in the grocery cart.

How I would point and grunt and gesture before I had the power of speech
and I don't remember but my parents have pictures…
of me running naked on the beach.

Of course I'm too old and I'd get arrested if today I ran naked on the beach
and I no longer need to point and grunt and gesture since I developed speech.

With bad knees I can't run anymore…finger painting for me is a lost art
and I'm much too big for Deborah to push me in the grocery cart.

My parents are no longer alive so I can't laugh at the silly things they say
HOWEVER… I can still dance and sing to the music in my head a little every day.

And I'm please to say now in my 70's
some days I still feel like that little squirt…
and even though I've lost my taste for it…
I still love playing in the dirt.