Thursday, March 3, 2011

Return to Pooh Corner

(I'll admit I struggled with titles for this one. It was the above or Childlike Wildlife. I think I should have gone with the latter.)

Oh, how it is to wake up.
The Barbie house still exists in my mind:
I kept my Furby on the deck, the white fenced deck,
Hoping it would wake up in the middle of the night
Like Andy said his did.
I still think I'll find a misplaced something
In a small carpeted room-made-shelf.
I still hear the music, 2 Become 1,
Love coming easy, and love being true,
And dreams being fate, fate being my making.

I climbed into the tree house with the neighbor’s
Fence as my ladder, and I crossed the black gate
That kept you from falling, and sat on the edge
Of the ply-wood, feeling the world beneath me,
Miles beneath me where the dogs ran.
And the wind seemed to pick up
And the earth seemed to swell, and I knew by facing
That height I would conquer life.
Life would be that carefree summer.
Life would be whatever bright nature dictated;
Life would be an optimistic orphan in a hidden cabin in a wood,
An abandoned girl living in a wondrous landfill with a dog
Named Miles. And true love would come coincidentally,
With an eternally painted smile and soft blonde hair.
And our kitchen would be yellow and giving birth
Wouldn’t be scary, and whatever I desired,
If I desired to chase it, would be attainable.

And Oh, how it is to wake up.


(On a none-poetic note, I was Googling my spelling of Furby, to assert I'd been correct, and I found this picture which is the EXACT Furby I had. And I didn't even have to look at more than one page of Furby images. Blessed Karma.)

2 comments:

  1. i can't even handle your blog... you're too good. your awesomeness blinds me.

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  2. I love the poem and the poet who wrote it, i'm glad you love furbys (furbies?) but they creep my out, kinda like clowns... But FANTASTIC poem.

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