I was happy today
to discover I still had
my copy of
     "The Little Blue Whale"
buried under an undisturbed pile
of little shirts
     little pants
          and little shoes
that all belonged
to someone
I'm sure I once knew.
 
I sifted through the pages
one by one
hoping that they would all
jump out and dance
delightfully
around the room
much as they had done
     so many times before
     such a long time ago
 
As I saw the page suddenly tremble,
I held out my anxious arms
ready for my friends to jump into them,
but it was only a cool evening breeze
swishing through the windows
that rustled the pages,
and instead of
     whale songs
          and water fountains,
I heard only the echo
of a once familiar young mother
calling gently
for me to come down
     and wash my hands for supper

© by Steven Oberländer.
Used with the author's permission.