For today’s prompt, write a hide out poem. When I was a kid, we’d build “hide outs,” I guess from our parents or other kids. An assortment of criminals (fictionalized and real) have their hide outs. But maybe there are other hide outs, like a “man cave,” “she shed,” or the local pub. Heck, maybe it’s the library. Give it a thought, and I’m sure you’ll find the right hide out poem for you.
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Indoor Fort
Even now, I can get hit on the head
as the upside down dining room chairs
covered in a heavy quilt
tip in and bring the whole
hidden place
folding in on itself
us giggling underneath
Not engineers we try again
and have for a moment
sufficiently hidden in the middle of the living room
telling stories now
until the setter can't stand it
and finds us and steps on the heavy quilt
and the upside down dining room chairs
tip in and hit us on the head
and we are in a pile of furniture
and dog love
and laughter
and will always be there
hidden, completely now,
from space and from time.
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