little sisters

their 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.

 

Reviews

[Ahena MK]

real good !!! wonderful topic ..... well written

[m.s.early]

(: Thank you Ahena :)

[Lyn Anderson]

This is sorrowful and beautiful, and the image of the cigarette holes - that gets me.

[m.s.early]

Thank you KL. Someone must have used it too close to ashtray (or too far from) :)

[Daniel Dawes]

Good poem and I remember watching those cartoon......Thanks for sharing :)

[m.s.early]

Thank you Daniel. I was just telling my kids last night as they were watching Nickelodeon that there was a time when cartoon viewing was limited to Saturdays... they thought that was absurd :)