when i was young i would run
with crayons in hand to the kitchen table
have you done your homework yet little girl
my mother would remind
i wanted to obey
but i had better things to do with my time
like coaxing my friends from my head
watch them drop down to the page in front of me
i could see them move about stretching their legs
waving and laughing
riding bikes, flying kites and swimming in pools of lemonade
i would wave back
and want to climb inside
and i tried
i thought if the paper was big enough
i could just fit
so i began taping pieces of construction paper together
until my mom called me for dinner
telling me i had to put my drawings away for chicken and peas
i would beg please!
let me linger here awhile
chester just met the witch who lives in the forest
and i have to draw a broomstick she requested
but my mom would insist as i resisted
eventually i had to give in to her (along with shooting hunger pangs)
as soon as dinner was over though and dishes were done
i would peek inside the rolled up paper
wonder if they were still in there
waiting
my mother would arrive at my door
its bedtime for someone soon she would say and smile
i would beg just two minutes more
you don’t understand!
i would cry until blue
one day she took me by the hand
to her studio over the garage
there tucked in a dusty shoe box
behind a pair of old jumper cables
my mother’s friends from years past
drawn with crayons at the kitchen table