Hannah and the Ill-fitting Wig
Hannah has dirty
hair, I tell you through
the open window. She is
a dirty blonde. You
shake your head at me,
pushing your shopping
cart as your yellow
lab trudges ahead,
his heavy belly
bobbing from side
to side. You start
to sing about the flag
again, adjusting your
flowered hat, leaving
paper petals with
every unsteady step.
3 comments:
As always, I like your poem. The title is fun.
I just noticed you have been doing a lot of two lined stanzas (or no stanza breaks) in your poems lately. This might just be me, but I think no stanza breaks may be better in this case. Just something to think about.
Thanks, Valerie. That's a very interesting idea.
Enjoyed the poem, Christine. Especially like the song at the end - while adjusting the hat. Nice touch.
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