Thursday, June 14, 2007

Poem #165 of 365

Grandmother is at one window, looking
out onto the yard, while her tiny nieta
granddaughter stands alone
at another in a different room, with the
cream-colored curtain
falling behind her.

I see both of them unsmiling as I
pedal past, and I wonder if they are
quarantined at home,
diseased under doctor's orders,

or if they had merely become
disgusted with one another
inside their house,
over a game of old maid
a few minutes before.

copyright 2007 tammy melody gomez

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