The floor,
hard but cushioned by the coffee-stained carpet.
We await the attack of the scraggly bear.
He approaches, and laughter is heard.
My sister and I retaliate at the same time.
The defeat is quick.
We taste the fibers of the carpet on our tongues.

All stops.

The memory fades as I return to the dimly lit living room.
I look at my dad wrinkled, melting into the couch.
He looks so much older now.
I look at my sister tall and tough sitting on the chair’s foot stool,
not as strong as I but still has grown and matured.
The memories in this damp, dusty basement bring tears to my eyes.
No more will we wrestle in this solemn room.
No more will we, as children be defeated
because now HE is weak
and WE are strong and could finally win.