Monday, March 22, 2010

The Palace





"Come into my palace," she says. And the remnants of a garden transform like Cinderella's pumpkin. "Come on, you guys." Old tomato stakes turn into javelin. Gray sunflower skeletons rise into the walls of a palace. They stomp and scuffle through dirt, raise clouds of dust. "It's the best part," she says, the dust. Lulie scoops up piles earth, puffs them down into her lap. Scoop, scoop, more dust.

From far off I hear Jane call, "Momma, you're highly favored!"

Later, freshly scrubbed, my children fall into bed. I tuck them in like fresh laundry, smell their sweet skin. As I turn to pull shut the door Jack calls, "Sleep good, my angel!" And I tip-toe down the hall, all my world a palace.

3 comments:

Daniel and Cerissa said...

Ahhhh... the season of required bathing. It is already here in our household too :)

Daiquiri said...

Speaking of refreshing - that's what I always get when I visit you. Thanks for stopping by today :-)

Goat said...

Things like this are what I remember from my childhood. It is the bedrock from which I say, almost apologetically (because in reality I have nothing to do with the lot I am given in life), that my life has been a fairly tale.

Fair tales--full of adventure and happy ever after.