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Villa
Park Sleeper
When
I visit
my parents,
I
sleep
in my
high
school
bed,
one
window
offering
a
bird
feeder
view.
The
boy
who
slept
here
was
going
to run
for
office.
Sing.
Grow
flowers.
On
the
desk
where
I wrote
books
reports,
a keyboard.
Mom
plays
hymns
and
standards.
Too
soon
other
sleepers
will
own
my room.
Villa
park,
Illinois
-
Saturday
night
Ovaltine.
On
the
bed's
edge,
I breathe
the
room
in,
try
to exhale
it
back
to Pennsylvania
wher
my partner
Stan
dreams
with
me.
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