Thursday, July 17, 2008

More Poetry Revised

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 along your walls,
the color of moon and flying things,
an audible flap of feathered wing--

I hope you can love your father.

Revised July 17, 2008
Katherine Mercurio Gotthardt
Draft III
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