because I can still see snow on the streets,
but the trees are taller eventhough the houses still face
the same direction
but the paint is different, the world is smaller
and I am bigger.
and I am bigger.
In a room that I never lived in I live
In a cold upstairs basement of thoughts I dig and
dig.
I constantly get up and look out the window
at the plowed street
looking for tire tracks in the driveway-snow.
the headphones clamp music to my ears
the desk I sit at was once yours
but I'm sorry I can't remember the way we used to be.
I saw movies of pictures moving
you jumping in the kiddie pool
my fat belly covered in green plaid.
riding bigwheels down sidewalks I don't remember
led by mom-so-young, younger than us,
and we fought with rakes, and bounced in the pool,
and you skinned the cat on the swingset,
and dad did
and grandpa did
too.
No comments:
Post a Comment