poem for your birthday

when i think of my childhood, you’re in it. we were silent together, at first, picking our way around stones in a woodland maze. you wanted to show everyone your favorite spot during the hike- where the terrain changed from clustered ferns and mossy trees to a spreading swath of land dotted with shrubs. we climbed for a long time to reach the crest of the hill. i remember the colors as purple and gray, and dusty brown. i remember trailing you down the gravel pathway, smiling at the cows.

when i think of the summer sky, it holds a fried golden sun, swinging daintily on a string. we swam where our feet touched the silt of the lake floor, where i shrieked as you held a tangle of algae on a stick above my head, where your mom yelled at you and i laughed. every single time without fail you told me i was short and i rolled my eyes. that was the summer you tried to teach me about dungeons and dragons, i wanted to be an elf (you said i was too short).

when we were very small we fell asleep on bart trains. or, we were awake and loud and made puppets with our hands, to the displeasure of the other passengers. i said i thought it was a peacock and you said that it was, and our moms laughed at us. we had seen a play at the building with the spiral staircase and we watched the sky as the city zoomed by on the way home (we held our breath in the tunnels).

it began with our kindergarten classroom, the round tables, the alphabet rug. we danced in the nutcracker together- sequined in red and green- i hated it. i followed you around sometimes (you were such a jerk) but you ignored me. i’m still following you and i refuse to be ignored. shut up and be my friend. i love you. lulu.

p.s. happy birthday