The plate wasn’t always blank.
Before the dishwasher soap scrubbed it too clean
I had drawn on it:
A ladybug, red and black,
colors that squeaked
as markers touched white porcelain—
“Special markers,” she said.
We each made a plate that day,
one, two, three, lined up to dry,
the extras still stacked in their box,
white as the snow that had kept them there.
We ate pizza on our plates,
then ran off to play:
The first time I saw Silly String,
blanketing the walls
in foamy pastel,
shrieking as it touched my skin;
the first friend who had a phone,
tapping out pop songs
in a room full of pillows—
one, two, three, lined up on her bed.
She told us the markers would never come off.
The Young Writers Project provides VPR's audience another avenue to hear and read selections and see visual art and photography from Vermont's young writers and artists. The project is a collaboration organized by Susan Reid at the Young Writers Project. The thoughts and ideas expressed here are the writers' own and do not necessarily reflect those of Vermont Public Radio.
