I grew up...
in the den.
Very young,
sneak away
and play.
Silent, calm.
In the intensely small house,
I could be lost
from ten thousand relatives.
(I liked being alone--
it was my hiding place.)

2006.
I did my schoolwork,
in between Little House on the Prairie reruns.

After we moved,
the den stayed
my favorite place
to watch reruns and weather channels.
(Papaw was upstairs watching westerns,
and I was downstairs
with a 20 year old TV that worked,
but not perfect.)

Junior year.
Noise like a raging blizzard.
And none of us knew how to fix it.
(This time.)

Granny bought
another
ridiculously
extremely
old TV
off the neighbors
that she paid
way too much for.
They were moving out,
couldn’t make payments on their trailer.
She felt sorry for them.

(Granny has a big heart)

(If only that TV had ever worked.)

Miniature TV, VCR
of Orlando, Florida
with its eight inch screen
found a home downstairs.

Time passed,
my favorite den activity became long naps.
That same Christmas blanket
and the 90s pastel blue pillows
with the matching couches,
give me comfort,
still.

I turn the eight inch on
(real low)....
I drift away.

Everything is
peace...
...ful