The snooze button is my friend. Originally written for the 2004 SLAM. |
Digging further into my Navajo print cocoon hideout safe house I defy morning to find me. Six, seven, nine, eleven, noon. Regret, for promises made, slips through me like tart red wine nearly warm enough to melt away the bonds of duty made for today. Plotting to be dead to the world, I curl in deeper. The tenacious light, a stream of sunshine, detects me, reminding me of those times when happy days could be felt in the air. I wish summer back into being When mornings forced only one choice: Sand or lawn, beach or park? Where my only worry is the waves depositing unwelcome grains in my suit bottoms. Where I could stop the interruption of some well hidden cell by driving my snooze button down under the carpet. Or silence the jingle jingle taunt of the ice cream cart, click click on the boardwalk, with my own jingle jingle of exact change for a blue tipped Rocket pop. Stick my Smurf inspired tongue out, over the battlements, at those neighbour kids eyeing my castles of sand. Then chasing the critters back to their mothers. Or . . . sprawl in my miniature urban jungle on the same quilt that I picnicked on with Grandma, many summers gone. Settle into the sweet spot where I can see the wrought iron of the outside world but can’t hear what is hidden. The wind, playful in my hair, brings a whisper of children’s cool, liquid laughter. And the oak, maple and birch gather round their carefully kept path, inviting me further into their world. Turn off my cell, again, and turn into the latest fantasy comedy character. Slaying vampires and salesmen between those pages that hold as much promise as sleeping in until pitter-patter pitter. . . Pounce. Satisfied by the automatic belly filler she made me buy for her dish and satisfied that she’s made herself known she leaves it at that and curls into the V of my torso. We dream of the wind in our hair and of chasing critters as we bask in that stream of sunshine in our pretend summer for just five more minutes. |