We were two girls
in flannel pajamas and mittens
peering out the open window
up to the snow-dotted moon.
I cried after cutting
your long black hair
into boyish layers like mine
as you watched strands catch
the light while falling
like silk pine needles.
We played adult
with Korean tea tables
and borrowed brass candles
that threw long shadows
over our made-up faces.
After you left my home,
I dreamt of you as a tiny doll
with raven hair and glass eyes.
You grew and grew
in your new bed
until you shadow stretched
over my body. I let go
of you that morning
and saw your satin nightgown
flutter through the window
before I slept again.
Honorable mention: "Chorus," by Peter Chapman; "Lunch Break in Druid Hill," by Medea M. Elvy; "The Ad," by Cynthia Gaver; "The Platform of Absolute Rest . . .," by Tara Hart; "Sunday," by Kate Korrow; "How Much Does It Cost," by Sonia Lewis; "What They Left," by Megan Snyder-Camp.Honorable-mention poems will appear in future editions of CP's poetry column, Bones.
