Prose and Poetry
from The Poet’s Companion
Bedroom
As you enter my room you will notice it
is painted white all around
A poster covers the majority of a wall,
on it is a metal fence, a basketball
hoop,
a partly cloudy sky with the sun peaking
out in the middle of the photo,
a basketball player with high tops dunking with his left hand outstretched in
the Michael Jordan pose.
Beneath the poster is a wooden desk made
from an ash tree that my great grandfather gave me before he passed away
On the wooden desk are mementos from my
2005 youth baseball championship trophy. Lying in front of the trophy are
pictures of my mom and I
On the pictures, my mom and I are blowing out the candles on my Thomas the tank engine cake,
on my 2nd birthday at Minnehaha falls park, and we’re sticking our
tongues out at each other on the Hawaiian floral printed futon we used to have.
A simple lamp shade colored a burnt
orange color sits on the edge of the desk
To the right of my desk against the wall
I have a two door closet with white paint and two metal handles, which is where
my multiple jerseys and nice clothes are hanging.
If you make a 90 degree turn from the
closet a twin bed with orange sheets and pillow cases is sitting against the
wall next to the nightstand
On the nightstand are autographs from
various athletes that I’ve received over the years,
A Justin Morneau autographed picture of
him finishing his homerun,
And Joe Mauer telling me to never give up on
my dreams
To
tell time, there rests a Mickey Mouse clock undisturbed, that I received as a birthday present when I
was 7.
At the foot of my bed is my dirty
clothes hamper with nothing in it at the moment.
Then to the right of the hamper is my
dresser which has two wide drawers on the bottom,
two
small but deep drawers,
and two small but wide drawers in-between
the two small drawers.
And that is how I perceive my room.
The blue and green striped blankie:
My little brother has had this blanket
since he was born,
And from it he has never been torn,
It calms him down,
It turns his frown upside down.
Gripping it tight,
It never leaves his sight.
Without blankie,
Owen would be cranky.
And that quite frankly,
Would make many unhappy.
