Friday, April 6, 2012

The Floor is Lava

The floor is lava
and the only salvation I have
rests cool and green on fresh
cut blades in the sun. From
the bed I toss goose down
pillows that thud and sizzle
on top of the lava. I hop
quickly across them nearly
slipping making one last great
vault to heated wood of the
staircase railing. I shimmy
on my toes against the cold
wall at my back down the edge
of the wooden frame. It may
not hold my weight for long
and my calves are shaking,
my hands are slipping and
time is running out. I hit
the lower gap that leads
into the living chamber.
I swing myself over the rail
and crouch to jolt myself
desperately to the arm
of the nearby loveseat.
I smack into the arm
stomach first, clawing and
hanging on for dear life.
I'm sweating, struggling to
get up and onto the overhang.
My sweat falls into the burning
pit of lava, sizzle into smoke
an effervescent reminder
of the close call I'll never forget.
I make my way across coffee
tables, knocking over lampshades
until finally I'm at the front window.
I balance on the sill, the breeze
tickles my toes as I grip the
dusty silk curtains. I open the front
door with my right foot just enough
to swing myself onto the front porch.
With one last moment of courage,
I lick the sweat off of my upper lip
and hum the James Bond theme,
flying out on the peeling wood
porch. My mom sits like an evil
villian in her rocking chair and
stares at me puzzled.
"What? The floor is lava!"


TPS CHALLENGE: Without TV or costly toys, children are very imaginative in entertaining themselves. 
Curious about the world, they utilize all of their senses during inexpensive fun play, 
like “camping out” indoors, leaf-boat races or neighbourhood sports. 
We challenge you to write a very descriptive, sensory poem, to which 
readers can relate their childhood’s innocent experiences.

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