A Playhouse Poem by RIC BASTASA

glass angels
tin can soldiers
house of sticks
japanese cotton dolls
plastic miniature beds
bears and small trees
princess with laces
queens and kings with
their golden crowns
fantasy castles
children's hands
and chinky eyes
and the sounds of
their laughters

we mix truths with lies
we put gold in mud
we sew dirty rugs
with silver threads
our dreams laden
with some harsh realities
you and me
and some of those
not like us
hazy, and foggy
and too thin to be air