Sleeping Under the Piano Bench

Sleeping under the piano bench
her messy golden curls
alight with the sunrise
gleaming through the window

Little grinding of her teeth
is what I hear upon waking

The children’s discombobulated fort
a series of pillows from every room

And stuffed animals– those that resemble
real creatures like the eagle
and the dolphin
and those that don’t
like the rainbow-spotted unicorn

Blankets and beach towels
their rooftop
and warm comfort

I can also hear the birds singing
in the quiet of the morning
A peaceful proposition
among the days of high-pitched squeals
and incessant questions and whining

But here they sleep peacefully
while I sip my coffee
and wonder how their absence will
affect me

Summer visit from a dear friend
and her daughters
we’ve known since conception
keeping the house very much alive
for my son and I

A never-ending spinning dryer
and dirty dishes-filled sink
And their fort in the living room
all week

A reminder of those glorious
childhood days
laughter and innocence
and wonder
and using pieces of furniture
as a bridge between dreamland
and imagination.


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Filed under Sunday Night Sonnet

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