That's All It Was About

By Afton Cameron

 

That's all it was about at four years old

My hair a curled mess on my shoulders

I would knee for hours on end

Right at the finely, finished wood window sill

Simple rays of sun sparkled across my skin,

As I reached for the pony's horses and barns I had scattered

My expanding imagination kept up

And I cherished my horses as if that's all I had

No one can count the days I spent in my own world

Feeding the horses and using my hands to gallop them across

The Window Sill

My refuge

And that's all it was about at four years old.