Reminding myself of my childhood; iguanas, magnolia trees, and glow in the dark stars |
Morning The iguana sits observing me As I ritualistically eat my breakfast, Perfunctorily guiding the spoon to my mouth. With loose, peeling scales Cold, blank, onyx eyes He stares, Accusing As I eat my Dinosaur oatmeal. The sugary eggs lay sweet on my tongue And I crunch happily into sweetened Reptilian bodies. TRAITOR, He reproaches, As he cocks his head And slowly blinks his black, beady eye. I look down at my oatmeal. Half eaten, It resembles a dinosaur massacre. I can’t help but feel slightly ashamed. Noon Battered and waxy, smooth pink petals fall From the loftiness of the Magnolia branches And land roughly on the grainy wood of the tree house. Soft green buds hide Amongst the color Rough, Yet coated with silky white lint; Reminiscent of velvet. The scent of the ripe blossoms Is infuriatingly strong And comforting like white noise. I scrape my dirty feet against the peeling wood And enjoy the effects of a light spring breeze Rustling the composed retreat of my Magnolia. Night Crumply warm quilts pack me in tight As I idle from murky exhaustion to vivid dreams. Stuffed animals offer inert smiles Beyond the barriers of my blanket cocoon. I run my skin over cool crinkly sheets As I let my eyes wander over Neon green, glow-in-the-dark stars Sticking to my ceiling like a mock constellation. Laying on the top bunk of the beds, If I simply reach up, I could touch the sky. |