there was a tree stump
with a seat carved into it.
We used to pretend
it was a spaceship.
At break and lunch
we’d fly to faraway planets,
shooting lasers from the sticks
that we gripped in our hands.
We’d argue over who
was the Captain,
who was the Navigator,
and we’d all cram in tight together
on that stump.
A regular crew we were
back then. Now I sit
alone at the office, papers
piled up in front of me,
and I try to convince myself
that my chair is a pram.
And it’s quite fun, I guess.
But it’s not the same.
