In their world
cows graze in caves,
squid swim beneath the ice
of frozen mountain ponds.
Rough dunes are pock-marked by
small tunnels leading far beneath the surface.
Here, a square sun sets and rises
on high towers of glowing stone.
My daughters live here.
The tunnels were their first excursions into the earth
the mountain squid
remnants of forgotten experiments.
The monolithic towers built
so each knew where the other was
until they numbered so many
as to become indistinguishable as one tree from another.
The eldest wears diamonds as armor,
builds houses on precious stone as would Tolkien's dwarves.
The youngest sleeps beneath the dark roof of her bedrock home.
Above the bed, a window
opens on a room full
of wild cats, ocelots.
Her ocelot room.
Together, they explore jungles
tame wolves and horses
trade goods with villagers
raise chickens and cows
Tomorrow they will search the desert for treasures
scour caves for lost cattle
and fish for squid in the mountains
And be back in time for dinner
where they will smirkingly tell me
of the fish that made housecats
of ocelots.
