Creative Non-Fiction / Poetry / Writing

Day 36 of 35


At four you were fascinated
with the length of my adolescent blonde hair,
how I piled it high at the top of my head.
You would climb into my arms,
twist it, and say, “doorknob,”
as if you could open me and crawl right in.
When I put you down, you would settle for flinging open
every door in that house on Salvio–
the one with the clothesline and roses,
where each room lead into another–
and, we would give chase, circling
through them until we were dizzy
and couldn’t remember
who was in charge of pursuing
and who was meant to be caught.

One thought on “Day 36 of 35

  1. I liked this one A WHOLE LOT I think you should do an entire book of poems about “a” family : ) and their homes. Hmmmm. Anyway BIG HUGS TO YOU AS ALWAYS

    Date: Wed, 10 Oct 2012 04:28:08 +0000 To:

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