Читать книгу Dead Girl Dancing - Mike L. Nichols - Страница 9

Yellow Means Be Ready To Stop

I should feel uneasy

in this ever-darkening bedroom

on the evening of your funeral

gazing in your dresser mirror

watching you push up your tiny

coffin lid and smooth down your

yellow dress while turning

your unsmiling eyes

to mine.

You were bleeding so much

but no one would pay attention to me

and help us. Children are always crying

wolf. Pale and unconcerned, you picked at

the lace on your yellow dress. We were

too little to understand how important,

like gravity, you were to me.

I dream you,

playing in our sandbox.

Clouds drift in, darken the yard.

The wind moans, whirs the weeping

willow leaves and pushes

at your yellow dress.

It blows you away

grain by grain.

Leaves behind your

perfect impression

in sand and cat shit.