When we were small
maybe 6 and 8
dad bought us matching
dream catchers
mine was blue and yours green
like sister oceans
side by side, twin seas
each dappled wave
a sticky-fingered crystal
bead that drips
along the perfect web
that when we were older
maybe 7 and 9
looked too symmetrical
to feign a star spattered sky
I thought the blue beads
looked like tears
trapped in tangled cotton lashes
and if I wished hard enough
my dream catcher
might catch my sadness
like bad dreams
and lock them all away.
