Pay no attention to that man in the chair
his horse is parked in the garage
rusted shoes nailed to the roof
for good luck. Good luck swinging
the old cowboy up and out of recline–
surgeon’s dusty trail having sliced the wind
right from John Wayne. He’ll grunt and moan
before he draws that pistol.
No need to be frightened.
Little lady, this is a movie
the blue sky is a painting
the shallow breathing is a soundtrack.
Stuff those jitters in your bonnet and learn your lines.
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After a brief hiatus, wherein the mother/poet ferried the children to the mountain for some rain fun, the poet/mother has 5 mornings to herself, wherein she will continue on her quest to write scintillating poems about superheroes (or pop culture heroes in chaps).
jillypoet 