little sistersA Poem by m.s.earlytheir little fingers probed curiously cigarette circle holes carelessly poked through cotton blankets during Saturday morning cartoons.
gunpowder kegs dripping trails, a coyote gets blown to oblivion, iron anvils fall precariously from the sky while their little faces huddle winter morning, stoic as coyote crosses chasm's edge perilously .
tattered edges tucked beneath their little legs, milk residue in otherwise empty bowls, bran flakes crusting on edges in winter's tireless chill, blanket shared in common communion.
sweet sisters growing in gradients as morning dissolves, becoming noon.
© 2014 m.s.earlyReviews
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13 Reviews Added on February 18, 2014 Last Updated on March 2, 2014 Authorm.s.earlyVAAbout"A poet's work is to name the unnameable, to point at frauds, to take sides, start arguments, shape the world, and stop it going to sleep." -Salman Rushdie more..Writing
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