A Forest and Park kind of Birthday
By Curt Vaughn
A VCR like light in my dark bedroom that appeared to be
celestial body appeared before my brother and me on his Birthday.
It was at his new home under a drying machine sky unlike the
washing machine sky at our home I did not need a rinse cycle on this mini golf
park kind of night.
He was mastering a new toy while others with myself
included enjoyed the brush fires of Conversation and the smiley face sticker
foods that he floated on sweet clouds to his beloved and then down the factor
line to us the so called always on a break workers.
Here comes my nephew army crawling thru the trees looking
for something or someone, I wish I knew then I could make him laugh like when I
shake my change jar. He wants to go outside and socialize with the trees
but there is only one tree he really wants and that is Mommy Tree, I take him
to her not knowing he can climb down into the forest on his own, well now I
know I will let him led the expatiation next time.
We go inside and make conversation jars with our talking
potters wheels, we converses like mouths to flames of smoldering subjects of
the news headlined room. It goes like a tennis ball machine vs. wall
match. But it is only a matter of time before we run out and the dying
fires signal an end to this water park of a night.
This Birthday event has one for the wet cement.
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