Listen to Tracie reading this poem:
Outside, still the same sharp voices and sharp edges but here the world is made of fleece and although I am too big to fit comfortably inside this cave castle rocket ship built by small hands that insist there’s always room for one more I flatten my belly to the hard floor and poke just my head into the secret hideout dinosaur nest pirate ship where the pirates are too young to know that “L” is for LOCKDOWN and when I tell them I don’t have any gold they say that’s fine, I can stop at their bank post office sundae shop where one scoop costs two high-fives and time is measured in cups of dry cheerios and when they ask if we can stay in this campground library airport forever I shore up the roof and fill again their cups.
Tracie Renee (she/her) is a librarian, a Publishers Weekly book reviewer, and a BOTN-nominated writer who lives and dreams in sort-of Chicago. Find Tracie in HAD, Orange Blossom Review, on Bluesky (@tracierenee.bsky.social) and at https://linktr.ee/tracie.renee.
Love this one!