Brian Strand Poet Verse

Anti Climax

I woke, icicles frozen to the window pane
melting as I looked out; Snow, drifts deep
on the lawn. Still crunching my toast

chilled toes wriggled into damp wellies,
school cap askew, I slam the back door-
Sinking to my bare knees, I stumble to the gate.

Along the school lane, boys snowballed
shouted and slid. At Auntie’s house I stopped,
my eyes seeking the upstairs window-

In that room, last night, another sister
new born, lay. Encore, no fraternal
frolics for’ dained, for me to play.

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Sara Kendrick November 5, 2012 at 6:50 PM Interesting work penned..I feel a sad quality to it..I feel it expresses what so many youth had to live with over the years taking on adult roles before they had a chance to be a child..Enjoyed reading..Soup Mail..Sara