Tell you what I remember.
Kisses goodnight on the cheek.
Hardwood floors that announced every creepy, creak.
Plath read by dim light.
A soiled brown journal…
Locked up tight.
Angry sentences filled with the holy spirit.
Standing in line for the back of the familiar…weathered hand.
How long the hours can be.
Awaiting the bending knee.
for a simplistic house on the Main street.
I recall my plaster.
As it, flaked upon the green tiled floor.
The distant screams of the ancient wood-stove.
Crying for more.
The name of the father…
On the forbidden front door.
A sardonic house on Main street.
Basic black on white.
Quaint and discrete.