remembering the games of childhood |
when we were very young we dreamed of strong men with broadswords and sub atomic rifles named Betsy who would wait patiently for us to sail across the ocean in gigantic pie dishes (we would eat the pie first, of course with the obligatory chocolate custard fight) propelled by rockets and rescue them from the aliens and their dragons who were only misguided and just needed a loving princess to make them give up kidnapping knights and settle down to crochet doilies and use their fire to light the lanterns on our spaceship you were the one who rescued the knight with his scars and his competence who saw you and knew that here was someone who didn’t need to be rescued but wanted it I was the one who curled up beside the dragon—who was a prince sometimes and exchanged quips about life and books and words as quick as each other constantly testing that we were not weak enough to be scared away it’s been too long since we played together but it speaks volumes that you found your wounded warrior and ran away to a little cottage in the woods where you could polish guns and knit while I still chase my dragon alone |