When I was Four.

The imagination you have when you're four.

Playing dead in the back garden.

Quiet... Only the hum of planes gracefully sweep across stained blue skies.

Quiet... Only the leaves on nearby trees brush against each other.

Loud... Lawn mowers come to life, scarfing up grass.

Loud... Helicopters hover.

Atlas, Atlas, they've come to save me, for I was alone, in my zone, outside home.

Playing dead in the back garden.

Author's Note

My favorite year so far, was the year 2000... when I was four.

Reviews

[kasG]

really enjoyed this. I especially like the structure, with the same phrase placed as bookends on the poem - like prologue and epilogue. Well done. I have just a couple of grammar notes:

"near by" should be "nearby"

"scoffing" literally means mocking or jeering. In the context of your poem, perhaps you mean "scarfing", which means "eating."

"with phone" - do you mean "without phone"?