melissaahowells
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******** when He returns from the road I wiggle my nose pretend my midnight blanket is a cloaking device I've learned the trick of breathing under water I will myself to become a diver in the ocean breathing slowly but without bubbles which might lead Him to my hiding hole when He returns from the road we wear Teflon pajamas to bed regrow the cotton fields in our ears lay out the tarps beforehand in preparation for any foul weather we've steeled our raw nerves against the tide of His rising thunder and His furious fist of lightning when He returns from the road how we bolt up or out of our beds this, for us, is our return journey into a continuum of many dark nights see how the house lifts high off the foundation see how when it never quite settles in the same place see how we all fall down into the basement to be exposed in our make-shift hiding space when He returns from the road our Mother is never fully at home with herself she's hied to the castle of her room high in the tower's furthest sheltered turret far removed from her daughter and sons see how the little blind mice run when He returns from the road previously written directly to the page edited again on July 8th 2017 7:30pm PST work in progress July 7 2017 7:29pm PST legal copyright for this work/poem and also by this author/writer Melissa A. Howells and also for this legally copyrighted site title:Meloo Straight from Her Tilt-a-World (yes, there is real legal copyright for this site title) Vote for this poem |
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