I still go there

I still go there sometimes—

To that other place that’s here but isn’t real.
I run across this grass and duck behind that tree
But I’m a dragon. I am small and blue, icy silver blue,
the color of an ocean wave on a completely sunny day,
frozen suddenly, just as it begins to fall,
blue on the inside, frosty white on the outside,
transparent all the way through. 
I have wings, but I’m a young dragon, so I can’t fly yet.
The pointy tips of my wings are pure silver,
As if they’d been dipped in a cauldron of melted coins and candlesticks.
Actually, I’m a water dragon.
If I’m near water, I can control it.
I can make enormous, powerful waves crash
Over the banks of the river and knock a giant to the ground.
I can make rain, so thick you can’t see through it,
To put out a fire set by a jealous pixie. 
I can make a frozen pond wherever and whenever I want
So I can ice skate with my friends, even in the summer.
I have many dragon friends, and they have different powers.
We live whole dragon lives. We even die.
The next day, we come back, curled inside a leathery dragon egg,
Where we stay until we are ready to be reborn.
I know it isn’t real. I know I’m getting too old.
But I still want to go there.
The problem is it’s hard to get there by myself.

© 2011 Elizabeth Ehrenfest Steinglass, all rights reserved

One Green Lollipop

I stretch,

Giraffe tall,
Swing-tree tall,
So I can see
In the basket
On the counter,
Red, orange, yellow circles
Wrapped in plastic
Like church windows.
I dig,
Squirrel quick,
Bone-dog quick,
Looking for green,
Spring grass green,
Green light green,
Sour apple green.
Not yet, sweetheart,
I am told.
Like I don’t know
Lollipops are for after shots.
But there’s only one
I want
To wrap my tongue around.
What if I’m good
And it’s gone?
I wouldn’t eat it now.
I could wait,
Knowing it was mine.
I grab it,
Cheetah fast,
Frog-tongue fast.
But what if someone sees?
Snake sneaky,
Kangaroo sneaky,
I hunt for a hiding place.
No pockets.
No socks.
No bag.
I have no choice.
I stash it in my underpants,
Just before they call my name.

© 2011 Elizabeth Ehrenfest Steinglass, all rights reserved