The feelings I remember from my youth
were anger and impatience with my lot
of noodgy mom, protective dad – in truth,
if I’d sufficient freedom, I forgot
(and that’s not likely – I recorded notes
in poems and diaries and journals too.
Or maybe I was better-loved than most,
and thus equipped to recollect what’s true).

My rookie parents meant the best for me
but lacked experience and confidence.
I had to craft my own maturity
through trauma felt at five. Intelligence
enabled me to prosper since that time,
but early loving care was surely mine.