Tonight's Poet Corner: The Cloth Crown
The Cloth Crown by Belinda Roddie There was a time I dressed up in a green turtleneck and a floppy teal hat, and the good old bulbous necktie number twelve from my grandfather, and called myself a prince. A stick served as a cane instead of a sword, and I crafted mustaches out of printer paper and smudged them with black crayon to give them texture. My sister played princess when I was the evil sorcerer, complete with plastic top hat, of course, and pretended to be the best friend when I was the knight or rogue who just wanted to see someone take a delight in my sass on my living room stage. Now I'm older, and the cloth crown's been sent away on a wagon, and the turtleneck, too, both too small, the tired vestiges of my third-dimensional clunky frame. But the "dashing knight" comes to play once in a while, and the "debonair gentleman," and the tailcoat smelling like prom from the thrift store, and the soulmate ties flashing up my expose