Shayna Greene

Welcome

To the land of almosts and maybes,

to the not-right-nows

and disingenuous maybe laters,

we, the children of false promises,

salute you.

We come from humble beginnings

of adventure and curiosity.

“Why” was once our staple.

We had “no” with our peas and carrots,

“careful” in every forkful.

Now we feast on those scrappy side dishes.

We used to paint with our fingers

and stare up above.

Whether sky or ceiling or human,

everything was an oddity in need of

explanation.

The answers were simpler then.

You screamed and food appeared.

You got hurt

and it was the slide’s fault.

We are a compilation of every

dinosaur chicken nugget

and heartbroken lullaby.

We are first steps and first

loves.

We are smudged eyeliner

and once-cherished teddy bears.

And when we welcome our new selves,

we do it

to keep the old ones company.

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