It's a small thing your sneakers unlaced the hole in your hand-me-down jeans that bunch at your ankles like paper bags. No matter; you march up the steps to school and don't look back. In a gray plastic bag with the unmatched mittens you drag three favorite dragons. Your hat, a small crooked flag on your head signals arrival. On your shirt the clipper ship under canvas sails boldly into blue like you at five years old; how you take each day full-sail.