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Poem

We used to share dreams;
thoughts, my sister and me.
I occupied the top bunk, she the lower
in the cold, dank bedroom
we once inhabited from dusk to dawn.

Not prophetic dreams, the future;
we had no perception, illusions.
No exchanging, dissembled violent nightmares, 
or nightly voyages traveled solitarily.

But joint adventures that filled the time
between awakening and permission to arise.
An alternative to staring quietly
at a half a dozen lazy flies
performing elaborate cotillion
around a solitary bare lightbulb.

The game was simple; A subject was agreed,
then tiny imaginary books pressed tightly
into blinkered eyes would lightly lead us
to places, we could simultaneously inhabit.

Seamless journeys to picture-postcard lands,
often hand in hand with much-loved authors.
Young Spanish kings, wise Arab princes, 
Pink fairy queens and fiery golden dragons.
Flying, swimming, never falling, never drowning.
No words spoken; vividly shared visions;
two young minds together, escaping;
to places far less painful than reality.

Secret sacred memories; 
each one I can still recall, relive, enjoy.


A Tender Moment From Childhood Poetry Contest: Placed 2nd
Sponsored by: Malabika Ray Choudhury
Date wrote: 05-June-2021

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