When I was little

I was so into the riddle

Of the four-leafed clover

I remember scavenging the grass

Only for my eyes to always pass

The lucky plant

There were days when I got older

Where a clover would catch my eye

Making me believe that luck was on my side

But in reality I had to check that clover twice

A broken leaf deceived my eyes: it was split in half, not thrice

My young mind refused to believe its own eyes

I was so proud to show that clover off

Only to find out no one believed its lies

Only I

Then there was a day

Where I gave up on searching for

That lucky four-leafed clover

Because the three-leafed ones

Always disappointed me, moreover

When I was big

There was a little kid

Who told me they found

A four-leafed clover

I doubted their words

And that kid for sure

Went to the edge of the grass

And picked up two four-leafed clovers

And to this day

I always questioned

Why I searched for them in the first place

When I was little

I was so into the riddle

Of the four-leafed clover

Now that I’m older

I look over my shoulder

Scanning the grass

To remind myself that my search is over

Alexandra Molloy can be reached at [email protected].