The Key to Skybig Dreams
If you believe in how big the bear
is, please ask it to roar
as a lion would. I miss
the deep silence afterward—
to lie under the skybig
and cloud-dream. The clouds
shape their white cotton into a key
or a silent bear or an anger: red.
The blue unwraps tenderness
from the soul.
Love-stuffed School Sandwiches
Once or twice, I watched my mother
polish her nails blue, and I trusted
that no sharks will follow.
Swimming, but never breathing
air, only water, like a big
fish. Fear kept me in my bed.
The seahorses floating about my covers.
There has been a destination:
the power of being home fluttered
my eyes. There has been love
within the blue of her nails more
creatures floated back & forth between hemispheres;
the sea-based metaphors bake
into her home-made glazed vanilla cakes and love-stuffed
school sandwiches. I ate, and love tasted
like cream cheese and an extra orange in my lunch box
A Small Dinosaur
I found a small dinosaur in the beach
hole who lost one of its teeth. The eyes
reflected forest
green and sea blue—I got tempted to keep
staring. I fed it on grass & sand, and stars
from my tiny pocket and the sky.
My tiny hands patted on the thick skin.
How do I get my skin to be as strong?
The Gold Star on My Forehead
I used to make
wishes on the moon till I learned
the sun is the biggest star. My star
melts from the black sky,
dropping onto the small
of my palm, and I kiss its light.
My teacher glues my competent
forehead with a gold star. No,
not daily. I complained to my mother:
“I ate the lost stars!” I joked, “They taste like
golden apples, almost like the sun.”
