Rough Draft Craft

My mother used to sing to me

My favorite things

I would drift, imagining raindrops bouncing off roses

And the soft whiskers of a kitten

But after the roses dried

After kitten whiskers gave way to dog bites and bee stings

I’ve come to sing to myself

And in doing so, I get a sense of deja vu

The feeling

That I’ve been all my favorite things

I’ve been a bird

I’ve been a dragon

I’ve been a flower

I’ve been a dog, also a bee

I’ve been a present

I’ve been a raindrop

I’ve been a song

I’ve been a tree

I’ve even been the moon

I’ve been all of my favorite things

And I’ve been love

I’m only just now remembering.

It’s funny, I could have sworn

I was just there.