Unfinished

At long last, here's my last piece for this week, by far my least favorite. I feel the poem is weak and needs some work on language, and I don't particularly like the ending at all but I wasn't sure how to end. As I wrote this poem I was thinking about how, when we are little, the things that scare us don't seem so scary when we are grown ups looking back on childhood. Fear, and scary situations evolve with time. For example, shorting out our microwave because I left a spoon and paper plate inside seemed pretty scary at the time, but now it is quite the family joke. But almost losing my son,... that experience changed me as a person in a way that I cannot explain and I don't think that situation will ever be one on which I can look back and say, that wasn't so scary. So, anyways, rambling aside, here's my third piece for this week. Criticism welcome. And, I couldn't get the formatting right when I copied and pasted this from word so if it looks strange, that is why!
Untitled

In the fall of 1984 I got off the bus at the wrong stop and wandered down a country road
for two hours before being picked up and returned to my home thanks to an
address label sown onto my backpack

In the winter of 1985 I woke in my bed screaming for my mother but it was my dad who
came and reminded me that Mom lived in her own house now

In the spring of 1987 I tried to make chocolate chip cookies and almost burned our
building down because I didn’t know you couldn’t put a paper plate and a metal spoon in the microwave

In the summer of 1994 I hunkered down in the back of a van in a gravel pit in South
Dakota while a tornado cut a path through a cornfield less than a football field away

In the fall of 1996 I stared with horror at the D on my trigonometry test and wondered
how I would ever escape the quick hand and disappointing eyes of my parents

In the summer of 1998 I walked into the Satan’s lair with nothing but a shovel and a
water pack hoping to save myself and the 300 campers at our burning summer camp

In the fall of 2003 I accepted a ring from a guy I’d only known for seven months,
graduated from college and signed my name on a $135,000 home loan

In the winter of 2007 I pleaded with God, begged my newborn son to take a breath, to
hold on to life and he did not respond

In the seconds and the minutes of the days of the weeks of seasons of the years, fear
has found me and I have prevailed