Dream Gate

Written by: julie heckman

The velvet hardwood cedar floor, 
is splitting from the oaken door.

Scrubbing varnish on my knees, 
day and night no one to please.

The floor began to move,
uneven and angled in every groove.

I was thrown into the dark, when
Prudence Pinecups charged the bark.

Instead of feeling grateful to her,
I felt alone and embarrassed, for sure.