Once Familiar

Morning
The iguana sits observing me
As I ritualistically eat my breakfast,
Perfunctorily guiding the spoon to my mouth.
With loose, peeling scales
Cold, blank, onyx eyes
He stares,
Accusing
As I eat my Dinosaur oatmeal.
The sugary eggs lay sweet on my tongue
And I crunch happily into sweetened Reptilian bodies.
TRAITOR,
He reproaches,
As he cocks his head
And slowly blinks his black, beady eye.
I look down at my oatmeal.
Half eaten,
It resembles a dinosaur massacre.
I can’t help but feel slightly ashamed.

Noon
Battered and waxy, smooth pink petals fall
From the loftiness of the Magnolia branches
And land roughly on the grainy wood of the tree house.
Soft green buds hide
Amongst the color
Rough,
Yet coated with silky white lint;
Reminiscent of velvet.
The scent of the ripe blossoms
Is infuriatingly strong
And comforting like white noise.
I scrape my dirty feet against the peeling wood
And enjoy the effects of a light spring breeze
Rustling the composed retreat of my Magnolia.


Night
Crumply warm quilts pack me in tight
As I idle from murky exhaustion to vivid dreams.
Stuffed animals offer inert smiles
Beyond the barriers of my blanket cocoon.
I run my skin over cool crinkly sheets
As I let my eyes wander over
Neon green, glow-in-the-dark stars
Sticking to my ceiling like a mock constellation.
Laying on the top bunk of the beds,
If I simply reach up,
I could touch the sky.