rocking it back and forth the magical rattling of the eggs on the refrigerator door mystifies her and makes her dance a look at me dance dance, there, so small on that kitchen floor next to that huge almond colored frost-breathing monster pockmarked with magnetic alphabet acne and covered with a shopping list moustache and an older sister's pre-k construction paper art beard. she, with her diminutive power, is its master.
Reason for writing:
.... its about my 1 year old in the kitchen...Birth sign: Not entered
You need to log in to edit this poem if it is yours.
View more poems by Kevin, Virgo.