Poem #95

I.

 

As a child, God made him a solemn promise:

Life would be good.

Not in so many words,

But in overstuffed stockings and doting grandparents;

In Milka after school and waterslides in France;

In a vat of cascading Lego bricks

And a familiar hand to flick the bedside lamp;

In imagination– yes, imagination most of all.