A WORLD OF HER OWN
(  for Ann on her birthday )

Tongue firmly
in check she

draws what could be
construed as a bird.

I ask "A bird... is it?" and
she looks at  me as if I am

duh...stupid.
" ' course it is!" she scolds.

" A bird
with no clothes on!"

Then as the church bells
scatter time

birds like moments
take to the sky.

She dresses the bird
feather by feather by feather.

Until it is fully clothed
splendidly arrayed

in yellow and
purple plumage.

"Now....I'll make you!"
And so she does.

Indeed.

I a stick-man
looking like a twig come alive.

I have no need
of clothing.

I stand beside the bird
who towers above me.

The bird looks at me
with an intense interest

coming to a decision
whether I be a tasty morsel

or to be added
to its nest.

The sun peeps in
to observe its paper self

a yellow swirl
of orange and yellow.

It is pleased
with its portrait.

Touches it with a fragile
finger of light.

A fly lands on
my stick-man's head

as if it were a hat but
buzzes off again.

Stands on the ceiling
upside down

watching her every
move.

Her hand seems to
have a life of its own.

Bringing a world
into being.

Trees and a river
make a guest appearance

before being
rubbed out again.

Although the river
still exists

drawn upon
the table cloth.

I watch her create
her world

as she sees it
as she feels it.

And wish I could
live here

forever.