Poetry |
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When women wore aprons over house dresses,
I opened the closet door. There it was, among coats and toys, Scaring us both. Tiny and gray it scampered onto The kitchen floor. Ma grabbed her broom from The cellar stairs. With a few pops of her broom handle It gave a feint wiggle. “Timmy” yawned his way into the kitchen. Ma said, “Open The door.” Left hand by the tail, Right hand by the scruff, Ma hurled both Into a tangle, Onto the porch, Face to face. A feeble swipe, Lost forever. January 1, 2010
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