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| JULIE DAMERELL | ||
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| Eleven, Paying with her Allowance Hips cocked with assurance she'll get what she deserves -- all of it good, all exact, some shiny, she waits, hand open for change. I watch for a fissure in her silence, a glimpse of the woman hidden from words then camouflage my worry with a stare out the window, remembering her delight over butterfly-dusted roses, my girl who cannot imagine the cost of all she wants. |
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| © 2003 Julie Damerell | ||
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More Poetry Not a River, the TearsIn Your Absence
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