Almost Five

 

Yellow yarn connects 
the two parts of her handmade phone. 
And because we tell her No! 
she presses her index finger to 
the mirror-image numbers. 
” I’m calling 911 for a better life.”

The world she inhabits 
within our house, 
where the fires of Fantasia 
burn through the television 
and engulf the living room, 
now holds equal sway with our own.

A rural graveyard and 
somber explanation of death 
only bring a lightbulb smile: 
” I have a great idea! 
Let’s get some sticks 
and dig the people up,”

An autumn hike 
through neighborhood woods 
ends with an off-key lullaby 
to stir fairies sleeping 
under a rotting log.

As this world burns away 
like morning fog 
may it leave a trace-

 

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