What I've been up to the past year or so...

...writing poetry like the nerd that I am. I decided to share a poem of mine with you all, even though it makes me nervous to put something up that's so different from my usual bubbly fashion writing. Please be kind.

The best time to visit your old playground

is at night.

The moonlight glances

upon legs like skinned knees,

the sand clinging to them

when you kneel,

little pebbles leaving

dents in your skin

as if the memory of

schoolyard laughter were

trying to burrow underneath.

The chains on the swings rasp

eerie lullabies in the breeze, and

you can almost see the

little girl you once were

perched there,

kicking her legs,

ghostlike.

The trees are alive and

you are sleeping.

By the beech tree there

you made moss beds for

fairies and

tasted earth on your fingers,

traced the shape of your

grandmother’s face in the soil

when she passed,

tore the legs from

that spider once as a dare

and waited ‘til the other kids left to

whisper a quick prayer,

give it a hasty burial

beneath the jungle gym,

and blow it kisses you

would never waste on a boy

back then.

Even now you are

still sorry.

I think he’s still waiting for you

by the blacktop,

the boy with the curls you

used to twist and pull.

Walk over now and

lace fingers,

press kisses on his collarbone,

speed off in his

gray Honda

and wipe the cuts

from your knees and

tell him how happy you are

to leave this godforsaken town.

Do not mention how much

you miss it.