I've had a hard time finishing any poetry lately -- so this is a little finished.
Let me know what you think.

Waiting for the Tooth Fairy


perhaps she’s still there,
waiting by a window and
a green rotary phone,
a tattered doily across
the back of her stiff
chair, her white hair
in hard little curls
close to her cheeks,
her glasses cloudy
because she forgets to
wipe them on her orange
sweater sleeve, she forgets
sometimes, when she’s
staring out at the lawn,
waiting for something
with wings to fly down
and pull all the pink
out of the earth