Staying up late as a child
Keeping an aunt company,
While she took up the iron
From the wood-fed stove, 
To smooth out the wrinkles in 
Fresh washed, wind-dried clothes. 
You sat in the window seat 
Looking at the steam-smoothed clothes 
As well as the star-filled sky, 
Then your aunt would ask 
You to tell a picture 
Of what you had seen 
On a local movie screen 
Flickering in the darkness, 
As you told her the picture’s 
Story came to life 
Enlarging the little room 
With ribbons of dreams.