Saturday, July 19, 2008

Another Revision

Crib Poem

Evening steps lightly on you
and I think of the bedroom I had--
my father’s painted mural for me,
brash rainbow, orange sun,
odd flowers behind my head;
mobile: wired white seagulls over my bed
flying to sleepless color--

I hope you can love your father.

I hope you remember he painted--
whiff of sleep your dolls exhaled,
nightlight puppets on the wall,
touch of moon and flying things,
audible comfort of feathers—

I hope you can love your father.


Katherine Mercurio Gotthardt
Draft 4
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