Monday, June 27, 2011

my little girl

my little girl stays in the country,
in a house so far away
that no one ever goes there,
hardly.

my little girl has a new dress for Easter,
don’t she,
though hardly nothing in the closets,
someday someday.

sister said there will soon be plenty:
lots of pretty lace and ruching
not to wrinkle, hanging,
lovely.

my little girl will need boxes,
lots,
for all the jewelry
coming,
someday,
and for tampons she won’t know
how to use
anyway,
will she.

my little girl has dragged her sleeve
in the mayo, already,
trying to get to the pie
on the table we set
in the sunshine,
didn’t we.

my little girl would rather watch the cows
mowing
the green pastures to sundown, slowly,
then listen to me tell her how,
lowly,
the hands of the clock move one way
only.

4 comments:

  1. i love the voice here, Janette. the way you've captured each scene and set them down sticky cornered like photographs in an album; creased, the colours slightly faded, no longer accurate, but because of that, somehow more true.

    then, with that perfect final line, put it in a drawer in the dresser, and softly slid it shut.

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  2. i loved this - it has such a surreal and warm but also a timeless feeling..great closure as well

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  3. oh lord, you've just broken my heart with perfection. slam bam damn perfection.

    xo
    erin

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  4. The rhythm and refrain is perfect. The revelation at the end brilliant. Deceptively simple, and beautiful, write, Miss Jane.

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