Second childhood? First ’round
here some’ere! Stay IN, I say.
Wait ’til I signal things are cool.
What does she do? She goes and runs,
leaving me with this stick-in-the-mud
grown-up who is forever checking
the world’s most beat-up watch
or bending to a rule she needs
to break. Miss you, you rat. Feel
like a copy got stuck in a printer.
Tore in two when someone tugged.
Drum and cartridge too old for me
to be sharp. Barely read myself.
Good that scary parts smeared, but still.
Miss you!! Long to play Pretend
with you. To be wind, to be close-to-
matching doves high on robin’s egg blue
sky. To be egging each other on. To
paddle in puddles after a long summer
rain. Go in toe-to-head mud and waste
bubble bath. Laugh ourselves silly.
L-o-o-o-o-ve silly. Love even more
to believe. In angels. In genies. In
once-upon-a-time. In happily ever
after. Frogs.turning to princes, stars
winking back, mothers and fathers. . .
never mind. Such a trip to believe
Dubble Bubble glued our stomachs
to our belly buttons. All that’s wanted
is to say the secret word that unsticks.
Same trick fixes other stuff. People!
Turns us all into pop-up dolls
in a book like Aesop’s, only we
move and talk and touch. Are really,
really strong, and have been whisked
to this humongous dream house ‘neath
trees go up and up. Just enough sun
and rain to make sure flowers bloom
in every color in the box, and more.
Let’s be sure to color that adorable mouse
and pup, ‘kay? Cat got itself tangled
in yarn. No worries, spider won’t hurt
a fly. No one will. Book may close,
but not this minute.
.
Going back and forth gobbles memory.
Maybe if I stop going on, I’ll remember
where you hid last time. Come on!
Tell me I am warm . .

(c) Phyllis Jean Gteen, 2008