The bubbles turned the backyard into a summer wonderland,
sidewalk chalk, the fence into a graffiti canvas,
into games of Hangman & Tic-Tac-Toe.
There were balloon water bombs,
& whipped cream & silly string out of a can.
A kite was for paper doll rides,
a bucket, for suds built on the air conditioner,
only to be blown away like snow flurries.
Plastic eggs were for found poems & clues,
beans & pasta shapes for making mosaics.
The world on the screen became smaller—
almost as insignificant as a distant star,
while the world outside became as big as the sun.
She’d waited through her twenties
for a man who would take her away from it all,
only to find that when she found him,
he could only take her so far—
the rest of the way was up to her.
He made her better for his lack
than he could have ever made her
with his luster.
When Night Owl met Early Bird,
their polarizing opposites attracted.
Coexisting like peanuts & raisins in trail mix,
they learned to cohabitate—
he working the third shift while
she got the worms.
She’d spent her childhood asking why,
& it was when she began asking herself “Why not?”
that good things began to happen.
Born on Leap Year,
she didn’t count her birthdays,
but counted moments like lucky stars
& collected memories like seashells,
so that her life was a list poem
of every good thing that had ever
happened to her,
so that when bad things happened,
she could relive those good things
until she could live the life
He was a blond seeking a brunette,
scrolling through the gorgeous arrangements of pixels
with impressive stats,
but the day he was separated
from his virtual connection to the world,
he found a deeper connection in the one woman
who was everything the others were not—
whose essence was incense to his soul,
whose taste was strawberry coulis to his lips,
& whose voice was warm to his ear.
She’d thought by saying sorry,
she gave up her power to ever be right,
but doing so only strengthened her reputation
as a woman of humility—
a woman who could do no wrong.