As a child my hobby-

Rock collecting, and poetry writing.

Hours were spent,

my pointy nose inches from soil,

daylight, my shadow and me

digging,

Digging with whatever sharp tools

were found in the garage;

in my own back yard,

…..Fools gold, mini garnets,

rounded globed octagon treasures,

my rock book was miffed,

me smiling,  entranced,

By middle age I question,

When did the grape become my hobby?

It wasn’t even my favorite fruit.

If only I’d stuck to rock collecting

And poetry writing,  and stayed true

To myself.