I’ve grown up in the suburbs,
Grown to have bad eyesight from reading in the dark,
Being encouraged to get off the couch because it’s a beautiful day,
I lay curled in the arms of couches,
And next to bookshelves,
Behind my bed,
Under the hems of dresses inside my closet,
Flipping pages filled with black symbols that twisted themselves into
castles, prairies, forests.
My shelves were filled with dog eared books and magic properties.
They caused flowers to bloom on my carpeted floor,
Meatballs to fall from Kailua storm clouds,
Pages to transform into swords, wands, and broomsticks.
Congratulations, Forest!