Ollie Ollie Oxen Free

How much of learning’s innocence can we afford to trust in our adult life? (Sculpture by Daniel Arsham)

Ollie Ollie Oxen Free
       by Odin Roark

Corners to peer around
The harlequin of angles
Where peeking
Reveals
Where being stuck
Confines
Where feeling trapped
Separates

Our remembered child stands
Eyes squeezed shut
Face buried where two walls meet
Counting to one-hundred

While confidence sought
To play out our innocence
Beneath
Behind
Beside
A trusted game
Waned

Time passed
Shorts became pants
Pants became suits

Nostalgia echoed once more
“Ollie ollie oxen free”

Still we remained
Unwilling to believe
The forged sincerity
Baited with fiendish smile
Enticed with charm
Was but to set up
The next furtive trap

Suddenly
Acquiescence lay naked
Villainous schemers
Knowing but numbers
Who lured
Cajoled
Seduced
Our reluctance to cave
Are…

Later

We dragged ourselves away
Kicking and screaming
“We only wanted to play the game
Not be the game”

Emptiness invaded
Freedom to respond
To return home
To trust a voice
Wasn’t so
Anymore

Ollie Ollie oxen free
So simple
So everlasting
Now but an epitaph