edna, TX by Nicole Seligman

i’m a jungle cat.
i eat figs and persimmons straight from the tree
and the sticky orange juices stain my JCC camp t-shirt.
i wipe my fingertips on my shorts and there’s orangey dirt left there, too.
plastic snakes hang from fake spiderwebs to ward off the birds,
but i know what’s what.
i crawl in the softest sand and my knees don’t even hurt.
there’s moss in my hair and i’m beautiful.
i pick homegrown zinnias and wipe the peachy powder on my nose ‘til i gesundheit,
fondle frogs toes as they clumsily hop out of reach,
and play tag-you’re-it with the butterflies who hover too close to the ground.
i’m not big enough to climb the trees
except for the one with the magnolia petals and the branch low enough to sit upon.
i sip summer raindrops from the flowers as big as my face.
when the fireflies appear i chase them with a pickle jar until grandpa comes home from golf.
his cigar smoke and old spice whispers into the sticky summer air that tickles my nose
and i gesundheit again.
he tells me to come up to the carport to wash off.
there isn’t a carport at home
or soft sand or a magnolia tree or fresh figs.
i’m a jungle cat and i like it here.

Nicole Seligman is a fashion blogger, poet, and aspiring six-year-old. She's inspired by places she's lived, waning optimism, and her fluffy roommate Contessa. Nicole is happiest when she is playing dress up and exchanging photos of baby animals with her boyfriend.

Bay Laurel  /  Volume 1, Issue 1  /  Autumn 2012