PoetryMarch 2, 2009 9:03 pm

claire

The snow compressing
Underneath her feet was
Her favorite sound
Steps were made
Pausing in between each
Each foot compacting
The white underneath

Winter walking lent itself to a discovery

Her foot could have crushed
A bird after a cat attack
Displayed stark against
The blank snow

This she scooped
In her hand to bury it
And after she did not
So much relish the snow

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Poetry 9:03 pm

isobell

She was afraid of the
Clown at the birthday of
Chris Jenkins the day he turned 8
The infinate primary colors
Being vomited out of
The red scarf mouth

Later at 15 she had a reocurring dream

Clown teeth falling from
the paint smile
the gums flushing out
primary colors

A few time she was the clown
But she could never make
Anything but dark red
flush from her gums

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