A Little Night Music
The day that Dad brought home a bag
of cherries, Mum shook her head and
said, No. She had a headache. So
Dad ate the cherries, as I watched.
He emptied the bag by half, folded
the top down twice, and carefully
creased it tight with his thumbnail,
just to keep those cherries safe.
That night when the house was quiet,
I overheard Dad using his sun-warmed
cola voice, and Mum saying, No. She
still had that same sick headache.
In the morning that bag was empty,
crumpled into the kitchen waste.
for Poetic Asides Day 04 “Night (blank)” ©️ Misky 2019
It’s November Poem a Day month. These are 1st drafts