In Her Nest Reading
Where is Selma? I asked her mother.
You won’t believe me.
I might.
Reading in her nest.
I thought her mom meant her bed.
But her bed was empty.
Her mom led me to the den.
Selma was sprawled out, reading her I-pad.
Her body was lounging on top of pillows shaped like eggs
They were reposing on an overstuffed nest.
I thought I was spoiled! I said.
Selma laughed.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
