This poem reminds us that anyone can feel like a child at times.
I stopped to pick up the bagel
rolling away in the wind,
annoyed with myself
for having dropped it
as if it were a portent.
Faster and faster it rolled,
with me running after it
bent low, gritting my teeth,
and I found myself doubled over
and rolling down the street
head over heels, one complete somersault
after another like a bagel
and strangely happy with myself.
from Against the Evidence: Selected Poems 1934-1994
Wesleyan University Press, Middletown, Conn.