Dear Little Brother

If we could go back, and be little kids

if only just for a day,

if we could go back to the old house

the old house where we used to play

I would let you come into my room

and I’d read you all my books.

We’d build a fort, and hide and yell

for dad to come and look.

We’d play with all your army men

and make Barbie marry G.I. Joe

we’d play with all the little cars

and make a sock puppet show.

Then we could play Indians

tie up dust bunnies, and wear only pants.

I’ll let you have the wooden spear

when we do our Indian dance.

Then we’ll run around outside

you’ll go faster in your new shoes

and if anyone tries to take your Pokémon cards,

I’ll say no, those are Drew’s.

I drove by that old house just last week

and I noticed something there,

the house we played in must have shrank

and the yard become more bare.

I always thought the house was huge

the driveway always covered in chalk

the front yard was our space station

when we blasted off in a refrigerator box.

I wish we could have one more day

to see that house as our castle of joy

one more day where you’re not a foot taller than me

when happiness was blanket forts and toys.