Sunday 16 November 2014

NOVEMBER POETRY

Our mother had the wrong kind of children
Ellie Hastings

Enough happened
to peel delicacy
from our palms
not yet wide enough
to have our fortune told.

On days we could not stand
tall enough
to reach up,
crossed fingers could not save us.
Cleanliness was holy
water. Cleanliness was sharing a bath.

But like children cement themselves
in sidewalks
and skinned knees are still
on driveways,
we’re buckled in.
Our own fortune happened
enough.

1 comment:

  1. such a well written piece of literature from a budding writer. I also use to share a bath #twins

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