The Protector

Today you're tossed in the corner;
Thrown in the closet under jackets and sweaters.
Sometimes, I'll pick you up, and try to straighten out
Your crooked shape
But then, back in the corner you go, to get lost
In the inertia of a child, all grown up...

Your place
Was always at the foot of my bed
Two feet of reddish brown shag
Black, felt eyes pressed stiff with dried glue
But what did that matter?

As long as I could hug your neck
When the lights were off
You were perfect...
No matter how much you were re-stuffed
Or sewn up.
Sometimes, I'll pick you up and try to
straighten out your crooked shape.

But then, back in the corner you go!
Look at you...
A piece of my history
In the form of a lopsided bear
Full of foam, with dingy, yellow ears.
They used to be white, you know?
The years have eaten away some of your
Red coat, allowing cris-cross patterns of thread
To emerge.

Remember when my teacher let you sit
Next to me in class?
I was the envy of everyone that show and tell day!

My Nana had bought you for me...
Brand new from the store.
She said I kept looking at you
So what could she do but bring you home?
A great-grandmother's wisdom should be listened to
Yes? Of course!
Course, back then, I fit on YOUR lap: my little
Balled head against your chest.

Look at you:
You lopsided form of a bear, with
Dingy, yellow ears.
Two feet of reddish-brown shag
Black, felt eyes, pressed stiff with dried glue.

You've known more about me than anyone:

If I didn't like the way mom combed my hair,
You knew.
When I was punished for coloring my walls,
You knew.
When I had a cast put on, or scraped my knee,
You got hugs and kisses and tears.
When I had my first broken heart and each
One after that... You heard all about it.

You're perfect, no matter how much you're
Re-stuffed, or sewn up.
How many times have you seen me sitting
At my desk?
Writing, editing...reading
about another historical figure?
Making appointments and talking with friends--
And lost in the inertia of a child all grown up.

A lopsided form of a bear, with dingy, yellow ears--
Foam filling spilling through holes in your neck.
Poor thing!
I cried the day your black nose was eaten by
A curious puppy.
It exists now only in pictures.

But what does that matter?
As long as I can hug you still, who cares?
You're perfect...no matter how much you're re-stuffed
Or sewn up

CES (C) 1997.