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Rock-a-bye baby…



Christmas didn’t feel the same without her;

    Daddy tried to decorate the lopsided tree,

    but at least one strand of lights had burnt out,

    and the silver and gold ornaments

    were hung too close together.



If she had not left almost a year ago today,

    maybe Scruffy could have seen my seventh birthday,

    and Grandma wouldn’t have had to take me school shopping.  



…when the wind blew…



Will I see you this weekend?

    Not this time, Baby; I’m too high to drive,

    and Davey needs more beer.

    Next week, I promise.



157 cross-your-heart-and-hope-to-dies later,

    my fist smashed into Becky’s lower jaw-

    but she started it.



…when the bough broke…



April 14, 2000;

    six years of darkness were shoved into cardboard boxes

    and sealed with blue packing tape.

    I wrote “FRAGILE” on the sides,

    but no one noticed as they tossed my belongings into the moving van.



It was hard being a single mother for two

    when I had only lived for a decade.

    I watched time warp the lives of everyone around me;

    that was inevitable.



…down came baby…



He wanted out and one had already left.

    He was laughing but she was the only one smiling.

    Another April, another change;

    our flowers never bloomed that spring,

    and the yard had some kind of disease.



The faucet in the kitchen drips a little,

    and the second bathroom is way too small;

    at least the floors are always clean,

    and the dishes get done.

    Who would want to live in Paradise anyway?



…cradle and all.