Mice Skating

Fingers skate across letters,

Ideas buried in white.

I shovel at snowbanks,

Digging for what I’ll write.

I look up and imagine

Figures gliding ‘cross the screen,

Angelina and her friends –

Rodential, yet serene.

I’m transported to the past

On the couch by dad’s side

As he read us a book

Like he did most nights.

The stories flood to mind

And the favorites among them:

The Twelve Dancing Princesses

Mary Anne and Mike Mulligan,

George and his friend

In the big, yellow hat,

Christmas in the Country,

And Frieda, the cat,

Shoes, Nurse Nancy, and The Big Red Barn–

Some, Golden-spined stories,

Most- used, full of charm.

My dad would make voices

As he read each line,

Never half-hearted,

No matter how many times.

He read us those stories

And they never got old

And Angelina was warmth

On nights that were cold,

Drinking cocoa in the kitchen

in the glow of the fire,

Figure skates left to dry-

My favorite picture to admire.

And it’s time for this rhyme

To go to sleep for the night,

But it’ll be here to revisit

Whenever you like.