Jan 26

Special Markers

The plate wasn’t always blank.
Before the dishwasher soap scrubbed it too clean
I had drawn on it:
A ladybug, red and black,
Colors that squeaked
As markers touched white porcelain—
Special markers, she said.
We each made a plate that day,
One, two, three, lined up to dry,
The extras still stacked in their box,
White as the snow that had kept them there.

We ate pizza on our plates,
Then ran off to play:
The first time I saw Silly String,
Blanketing the walls
In foamy pastel,
Shrieking as it touched my skin;
The first friend who had a phone,
Tapping out pop songs
In a room full of pillows—
One, two, three, lined up on her bed.

She told us the markers would never come off.

Author's Note: I just started taking a class called memoirs, and this is one of the first things I've written for it! Hopefully you don't get sick of reading about me, because I'm sure there will be much more to come...
Audio download:
Special Markers.m4a
About the Author: Worlds.Within.Words
"I say I want to save the world but really/I want to write poems all day" -Dorothea Lasky