Four Years Old

[CRNDLSM]

My kiddo will be four soon, 

Edit 3

Through afternoon light,I like the progression of time afternoon to morning
the white wardrobe played
hide-and-seek with me as I climbed
in and out. A water-filled baton
spun me until I felt weightless
as the purple glitter inside. I really like how you capture the child playing it seems by itself

The concrete jungle-gym this  break and concrete jungle take me to the child's future, businesslike grown up
lifted me on its shoulders
and we saw a playground
with children erased. Sad that childhood is distant past

My brother disappeared this just makes everything sad
with the moon each morning playing by itself because a missing brother, empty playground cause brothers gone, but because of four years old this could imply still alive, but from a child's perspective the long-lasting absence is really well put in words here
and mom did dishes in silence.
She was a tree whose leaves were green
only at the very top. I guess the kid sees the mom as a strong tree who's slowly dying from the loss, doing dishes in silence dwelling on it.

Cheers lizzie!

Edit 2

I remember afternoons and light.
The white wardrobe played
hide-and-seek with me
and my water-filled baton
spun me weightless
as purple glitter.
The concrete jungle-gym
held me on its shoulders
and showed me a playground
with children erased.
My brother went away
to school each day
and mom did dishes in silence.
She was a tree whose leaves were green
only at the very top.

Edit 1

I remember the afternoons and the light.
The white wardrobe would play
hide-and-seek with me as I climbed
in and out. My water-filled baton
spun me until I felt weightless
as the purple glitter inside.

The concrete jungle-gym
would hold me on its shoulders
and show me a playground
peopled as after the rapture.

My brother would go away
to school and mom would do dishes in silence.
She was a tree whose leaves were green
only at the very top.

Original version:

I remember the afternoons and the light
of my favorite things –
my white wardrobe that would play
hide-and-seek with me as I climbed
in and out, and my water-filled baton
that made me weightless
as the purple glitter inside.
I'd fixate on it for five
minutes or an hour, maybe.

I'd watch Sesame Street,
Mr. Rodger's Neighborhood.
Sesame Street was fun,
Mr. Rodger was company.

My brother would go away
each day to school and my mom
would do dishes in silence.
She was an inaccessibility,
a tree whose leaves were green
only at the very top.