4-6 Her grief

This is about Jessica, a true moment I poeticized.


Her Grief


She sobs. Mean daddy drags her crib

across the bedroom. Dolls gasp;

bears and tigers snarl from their shelves.


Wedged in the doorway, daddy grunts,

wrenches it through, gouges the frame.

Its legs plow through thick carpet leaving furrows.

He heaves it on the porch.


In her room, she sucks a thumb, stares at

the empty rectangular outline, phantom bars,

invisible Busy Box.


Stunned by the space

in her life, shapes of images

fade before tearing eyes.


then she goes to the kitchen


and drinks her juice.