As I order my tall, skinny, vanilla latte…iced! she looks up at me
eyes wide, asking and offering some make-believe tea
no time to celebrate
my unbirthday right now; I’m late for work again.
She sits and stares at the sky picking a flower
he loves her, he loves me not
while I pace down the Embarcadero, rushing to BART
have to catch the Richmond bound,
run down the escalator, jump in, right at the last second.
And at night when I smoke on the patio,
looking out towards the Colliseum
she stares at the sky, gazing
searching to find the second star to the right; seeking out Never Land
wishing to play with the Lost Boys and Peter Pan.
Time is her rival; she never wants to grow up
as I drift off to sleep
her dreams start dancing in my head.
I cannot help but smile and join in.
