A Dance

A Dance

A Poem by Emma Callen

A pale boy waits by the fence
Mother tells me

hair grows
after you’re dead.


There is a scratching at the window, father tucks us into bed.
He calls it a tree branch,
we call it a tree branch.


But I feel the boy

tug at my hair.


Deep in dreams

I sway with him

his hair, my hair

a twirl, a tangle.

© 2014 Emma Callen


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Added on November 8, 2014
Last Updated on November 8, 2014

Author

Emma Callen
Emma Callen

NY



About
colorado college sophomore, poet more..

Writing
Kindling Kindling

A Poem by Emma Callen