Thursday, July 14, 2011

let's call the sitter

soup pot emptied;
five chairs askew,
tabletop cracker-crumbled

hum-a-long sweeping songs;
billowing curtains
and rays skipping up the wall

little fists clutching
fuzzy blankets,
books and sippy cups

book bag slumped on the floor
of an empty studio;
canvas half-painted

a hankering for gelato;
silver moon taking over
the roofs of town square

let's hold hands


  1. ah so authentic...thanks for the it over and over