Under the bed, board games.
Drawersful of old class projects,
kid magazines,
birthday cards,
magic tricks.

A fire engine, a map of the stars,
6,000 hours of Legos,
countless art projects.

I was grounded here,
with the old sash-windows
(some of the panes cracked
and chipped)

A bunk bed,
rumpled sheets
holding the last vestiges of
childhood nightmares
and a childhood romance.

Things change,
I have wood floors now.

White; paneled; miniblinds.

A phone, flip-top and
talking into the night
(and through it,
with the high school sweetheart
that I always wanted to amount to something.

Watching the sun set,
the moon rise,
the heat