In third grade, one afternoon,
we were ushered into the auditorium
for a 16mm animated film
about dinosaurs.
As comets and asteroids fell,
pocking the earth,
so did the huge creatures,
stumbling in their tracks,
long necks heavy.
When they hit the parched ground
I felt the vibration through
the floor, my saddle-shoed feet
hooked over the bottom
rung of the metal chair.
When the last one lay down and died,
my throat closed, my eyes filled,
someone coughed, someone giggled
a restless chittering in the dark.
The lights came on. We blinked
as black curtains swung open.
Outside, the sun glared down
over the playground.
Then we were let loose,
racing to swing on the monkey bars,
hunt each other,
punch a tethered ball
around and around.