me
at maybe three
new to the world
already punk rockin’
in Sesame Street pajamas
and Grover slippers on my feet
liked to curl up
under the christmas tree
staring up through lit branches
sure i had found
where magic sleeps
Categories
aayoungPoetry, Prose, Art, Curiosities
2 replies on “where magic sleeps”
I remember doing something similar… lying under the tree watch the bubble lights..
Ah, I love bubble lights! My grandmother had them! I have a bubble light nightlight now. 🙂