A Society of Me

One morning my grandpa leaned over to meAnd whispered a secret, as quiet as can be.He pointed outside. "See the people out there?Every one of them's you — and you're everywhere."

"No they're NOT," I said. "I'm right here in this chair.They can't be me. They're all out THERE.""Ah," he said, twinkling. "Look closer, and choose.You'll see the world's full of other YOUs."

"Look there." And he pointed. A girl did a twirl,And her ribbon flew out like a flag in the swirl."Or there," and he waved at the garbage man,Who rushed to and fro grabbing every can.

"But Grandpa, that one has a beard on his chin!And that one's ninety-three, with a cane and a grin!And THAT one's eating spinach — on PURPOSE, I think!He CAN'T be a me. I would sooner eat ink."

He laughed. "You don't need to grow beards, or go gray,Or finish your spinach (though you might, someday).But the man with the beard once was small, just like you,And he couldn't tie laces — and neither can you."

It didn't make sense. But we stayed, and we stared.A boy skinned his knee, and he howled, and he glared.I knew that exact howl — the hiccup, the frown.I'd howled it last week when my bike tipped me down.

A girl scored a goal with a great whooping shout --And I knew that same whoop. I had let that one out.The garbage man grumbled, then whistled a song,The one that I whistle when things have gone wrong.

The girl with the ribbon fell flat on her face,Then got up and twirled like it never took place.And that's what I do! When I trip in the hall,I pretend I was dancing, and never did fall.

Then slowly, like sun coming out from a cloud,I saw it. I'm not one. I'm a me that's a crowd.Grandpa was right. Though they're all out THERE,There's a bit of me walking round everywhere.

Then a boy shoved right past me and jumped on the swing."I'm FIRST!" he hollered. "You don't get a thing!""Well, Grandpa," I said, "HE is NOT a me.I would NEVER be mean. That's as plain as can be."

Grandpa said nothing. One eyebrow went high.I thought of the cake that I grabbed — then, the sky.The boy swung up high and he yelled, "Look at ME!"I know that yell. I yell it from my tree.

"I'll push you," I said. "Then you'll push me.""Deal," said the boy, and he grinned. "One, two, three!"I pushed. He sailed up over the fence.His shirt flapped out, and his grin was immense.

Then Grandpa pushed both of us. Our shoes went up high."So MUCH of you!" he puffed. "And just one old guy!"

The world's full of mes. I think you're one too.There's a you in me, and a me in you.But if you're the me who's at supper tonight,The spinach is yours. Go on. Take a bite.