A poem entitled The Prelude Years


The Prelude Years

When you share another person’s childhood

And tumultuous teenage years

You see something rare and beautiful

That will never be seen again

Because there is a purity to those years

That will never recur

Before life has gotten to you

Before children and spouses

And other larger pursuits

Encompass your world

There is just you

And maybe a sibling or friend

To share nights

Of drinking too much coffee with

And only after eleven lattes

And a game of ball

Do you realize how unfortunate four a.m. is

I know four a.m. intimately

As I jealously realize you are asleep


I hate you in that moment until

I take to your bookshelf and read

The tales you read yourself as a child

Nightmares and Dreamscapes

My old familiar friend

And so apropos for these strange times

When my nightmare is home

So I sleep on your floor

And the objects in my pocket

Take up room on your nightstand

I wonder as to what your nightmares are?

Are they made up of the way

That people look

When they underestimate you?

No, this is reality often enough

Why should is take up space in your sleep?

Or do your nightmares fade?

In comparison with your dreams

That you dream

With the imagination of a child

I cannot even begin to suspect

What that means for you

Not in a world

Where for my every nonsense

You have logic

And for my every dramatic tear

You have an answer

I see how we have grown up

And say things like

“Who would have thought?”

When the truth is


I would have

It is no surprise to me or those who knew us

That you grew up to have children

And I remain the eternal child