Cecil Dreams a Bed
In my sleeping chair, I am cold.
I dream scary stuff, rats with long
yellow teeth, monsters at the broken
window, a red-eyed giant with a belt.
When teacher tells us to draw our room,
I draw my chair. Where’s your bed? she asks.
I never had a bed, but I dream a soft pillow,
blue sheets, a quilt like the one on the wall
at school. In a warm bed with a pillow,
I wouldn’t have scary dreams.