Years in the Making
I was born at a drumbeat,
the blare of a trumpet.
A homecoming parade
to mark my arrival.
I learned when I was young
to block my ears
when the family came.
I've banged on piano keys
and stroked them gently,
almost afraid
of getting a sound out.
I've ridden the zoo train,
waiting patiently
for the last stop,
the only one that mattered,
and asked to ride again.
I've begged for a cat
and named him after my favorite
superhero with childhood hopes
of a feline gender change.
I've been to one too many
Superbowl parties,
shielding my eyes
from the game.
I've quickened my pace
to escape a balanced kitten
sprinting across the top
of a beaten-up couch.
I've given up my share
of dreams.
I've gotten too many scratches
and bruises,
simply out of stupidity.
I've sweat an ocean
into a coffee lake
and splashed with a paddle
until my arms
grew sore and tanned.
I've swallowed gallons
of pool water
and watched a white,
stained dog roll around
on the blazing sidewalk.
I've read books that changed
my life, and abandoned
just as many.
I've memorized song lyrics,
hoping to know them
without the song playing.
I've kicked cats off my lap
[...] Read more
poem by Zoe Guillory
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