Playing with Imaginary Friends

I fill the coffee cup.
The stuff pours out, my baby smiles
and Alice, my friend, speaks up.

“Let’s stop this game; I’m bored.
Why don’t we go out in the rain?”

“Okay, if I can,” and hunt rain boots and mac.
“Again, Tina?” says mom, “Don’t stay long.”

Alice and I (of course Alice stays dry,
her clothes and hair always pretty)
jump in the first puddle, not careful the mud will
get on my pink dress (but not hers).

Then I raise up my face and open my mouth,
and drink rain from a warm, drippy sky.

Before long we squat down to make handprints in mud,
and I see hers are really there, too.

I grab her to hug, say “I love you!” and run
with my Alice to the warmth of mom’s kitchen.

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