Mr. Cliff

Mr. Cliff


Life is simple at 18 months,
Just playing with Bear-Bear on the floor.
Waiting for mom to finish making lunch,
Later dad will be home to push me on the swing set.


I’ll see my favorite neighbor before dad.
Before either comes home, I beg mom to play outside,
She gives into my whining and can’t resist my sad face.
My face shines against the sun in the sky.


I run to the sandbox and my over-alls become full of sand.
Mom tells me to be careful, but I don’t hear her. I’m in my own world.
Playing by myself gets old, I end up in the living room again.
The clock above the oven reads late afternoon; Mr. Cliff will soon be home.


I prepare Bear-Bear to go across the street while awaiting Mr. Cliff’s arrival,
Soon I see his big maroon truck turn the corner.
I run across the street, yelling “Mr. Cliff, Mr. Cliff!”
He greets me with the usual big hug, swinging me high in the air.


We climb into the boat in his garage; he treats me to pink bubble gum,
I feel like the most important kid in the world.