Reoccuring


A dream my mother had twenty years ago and again last Friday night.

In a bubble bath
you are triplets, age four.
Suds stack. Cartoon skin –
beards and breasts make masks.

Hours later we wake,
clocks strike, and you want
to throw rocks at streetlights,
make bats believe
food falls from the sky.
We, tricks in nature,
sneaky children lie, and
I am one of you.

Inside, there is one tall seat
at the kitchen table.
We cannot share so think
two of us should stand.
You tower and eat

We shrink.

amberhaines
About me

1 Comments

Amber
Reply February 28, 2008

Throatbeard?

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