He was it

We were kids

playing hide and seek

and he was it

but not for long

because he knew where I was

for I always slinked

underneath the lamp

with a canopy of cloth

and cookies that may distract others

but not him

because he was it

and I could hear him

humming some song

about birds in the night

singing real light

without my sight

oh, how right

and it was

because he was it

him with squirrely hair

and lilypad eyes

and arms that tapped

to his beat

and would tap me soon

to have me beat

because he was it

and he knew it well

and I knew it worse

cursing

hating

questioning what a buffoon I was

to choose this spot

when he was it

but he stepped by me

even though I was there

and he was too

finding someone else

whose scream echoed in the basement

as his footsteps faded

into the calm of another turn

and years passed

where he wasn’t it anymore

because he died a few months later

and I keep searching for him

and I wonder if he does the same

because I wouldn’t mind changing

what he was and wasn’t –

I am tired of looking

among the living and the dead