Sometimes when I look at her door
it creeps up in my eyes
from somewhere it tickle tip toes
out of the bowels of my soul
and into tears
Her pink pink glitter
spread all over
her name in flashing lights
The mop pony
the stick horse
the dolls, and animals,
the tutu on the floor
dollhouse full of barbies with colored faces
blue barbie eyes
like hers
stare back
i have to keep that door closed
because my soul weeps
but it hurts too much
to turn away
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Me . . . My final frontier. What do I say about me? I am a mother of like three kids-one not biologically mine, but still mine all the same. I ride mop ponies for a living. I love coffee and chocolate but who doesn't these days. I think Amarillo should embrace its individuality and support its local artists be they visual or music or whatever! This is where I wage my wordy war!
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