Before The Phone I Stared

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I stared at the night sky like stars were diamonds and my eyes were jeweler loupes

I stared at the girl who made my heart twirl like a Duncan Imperial top

I stared into the crystal ball of my wild gypsy daydreams

I stared at the covers of books like they were on this season’s runway

I stared at the impending animation of sculptures and paintings

I stared at birds flying in formations as if they all got the memo

I stared at the brief life of hand held snowflakes

I stared at the technicolor dream coats of autumn trees

I stared at window displays and gave voices to mannequins

I stared into the whirligig wake of my past

I stared into my Wild West of my future

I stared at scrapbook pictures and wished I was in all of them

I stared at album covers and pretended that the singers were the friends who knew me best.

I stared at dogs and wished they knew my name

I stared at parades that moved like never ending rivers

I stared at my babysitters and whispered, “I love you.”

I stared at windows, watching the seasons change like dressing room women

I stared at table top radios and imagined faces

I stared at TV sets and pretended that I could ride the Lone Ranger’s horse

I stared at movie screens and surrendered to the magic

I stared at the lips of ventriloquists and dared them to move

I stared through camera lenses and framed people like artwork

I stared at bubble gum scented baseball cards

I stared at magazines and comic books that all seemed urgent and alive

I stared at centerfolds who all had the first name, “Miss.”

I stared at grown-ups because we lived in a world of mostly kind giants 

I stared through backseat car windows as quiet lives and boastful billboards swirled by like a silent movie backdrops

I stared at new sneakers and imagined flight

I stared at my father’s knickknack drawer and tried to solve its vast mysteries

I stared at my mothers perfume bottles and felt humbled by their glamor.

I stared at toy guns that smelled like caps and considered impulsive bravery

I stared at my mother’s face whenever she said, “It’s late. We have to go home.”

I stared at bath bubbles that burst like the feather light hearts of angels

I stared with contempt at vegetables and delight at pudding and jello.

And I stared into the end of the dock darkness of my bedroom

Where I waited for sleep to arrive

Like a dependable boat

That would take me away

And return me safely to the shores of tomorrow

With time to stare.

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