Hello PoetryVoting

Vote

Voting-Boards

Home

HomeFollowingInboxNotifications

Read

ReadLiftedFeedsHeartedHistoryMy poemsNew poem

Explore

ExploreOrbitsWordsTagsClassics
Log in
0
Stars
0
Embers
0
Alerts
0
Inbox

Vote

Voting-Boards

Home

HomeFollowingInboxNotifications

Read

ReadLiftedFeedsHeartedHistoryMy poemsNew poem

Explore

ExploreOrbitsWordsTagsClassics
Log in
0
Stars
0
Embers
0
Alerts
0
Inbox

Saturday Morning Re-Runs

I feel like we are in

an old Hayao Miyazaki movie.

I suspect we are hand-drawn people

hunched over hand-spun milkshakes from a classic American diner

like Culver's burgers and fries.

 

I imagine the real me

has fallen asleep on a couch

in front of a microwaved dinner

somewhere in the distant future.

I think I was watching

the snow

fall outside the window

like static on a TV screen.

 

I could have been watching

the same Saturday morning

on loop,

walking in frames

to the same diner we've been going to since you were five.

 

There, we meet for breakfast

by the window.

Your hand is drawn wearing a gold wedding ring. I smile behind a silver beard.

Though it's hard to recognize our faces,

we say things that sound familiar

 

something about

how our favorite

Hayao Miyazaki movies

illustrated the passage of

time

through the eyes of a child

 

You order a kids meal

with a milkshake

in a classic re-enactment of

the days

I thought would

never end.

Request permission to use this poem
Written by
Antinoart
33 / M / Raleigh, NC
Published
Feb 16, 2020
Lines·Words
35·171
Tags
#time#daughter#diner
Permission

Request to use this poem

Tell Antinoart how you would like to use it. We review requests before forwarding them.

AboutBlogFAQPrivacyTermsContact
© 2009-2026 Hello Poetry/v27.0 by @eliotyork
Explore
Hello PoetryVoting
Write