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].
