We are Poised (poem)

Fistful of sand, you pause, ready
to throw again. I've cried over this
enough already, before you involved sand.
Look at you, grown up child, stubbornly committed
to outlive Peter Pan. You are pouting
and fuming and behaving like you need a nap.
You should rub your sleepy eyes
with that sand, but you're too sure you're king
in this box. I don't want to be anywhere near you
when you're like this, but here we are -- both of us, poised,
you, tense, angry, me, off kilter, sad, because I dared you
to grow up. Double dog dared you, even, nah nah nah.
I stood with my palms out, defenseless, vulnerable,
while you whipped white dirt in my eyes.
Sand never comes out of anything, you know.
You don't care right now. You play dirty when you're on
the attack. And I deserve better. I've bandaged your wounds
after too many school yard brawls, put sugar in your water
and called it medicine. How quickly you turned
against me. But I don't want to fight with you about this.
I am already an adult and I don't want to play
patsy cakes on the playground. You can stand there
as long as you like, arm ready to rocket
another burst of sand from your box.
I'll call you the school nurse on my way out.