They leave the house to walk to school.
They must hurry. She has places to go.
“What are you going to be,Grandma?”
What career will she choose – at last?
No. He lives in the bold, blind now.
“I’ll be a roaring lion,” she says.
“No. You have to be a vehicle.”
“I’ll be a flatbed truck.”
“I am a flatbed,” he says. “You can’t be.”
“I’ll be a flatbed truck with a lion on it .”
“My flatbed has one of everything in the universe on it.”
“I’ll just be the lion then, on a bike.”
“Your lion’s jumped onto my flatbed!” he laughs.
“You’ll never know what you should be, Grandma.”
He wins the race up the hill. and they get to school early.
Janice Marriott's Year in Poetry 
Dear Janice What a delight it was to read this poem. It seems to me you and your grandson are each other`s teachers and pupils. He sounds such a wise child. I can feel the joy you have in each other too.
I love it. Take care Ann
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Thank you Ann. It isn’t all light and laughter though… I’ll be trying to express other feelings that swirl in families soon.
Love the way they try to control the world to see how it works! Such a difference from Ben tho,he’s always a blue tiger or some other animal form!
For the blue tigers of this world…
“Skill in living, awareness of belonging to our world, delight in being part of the world, always tend to involve knowing our kinship as animals with animals.
Ursula LeGuin.