Tuesday, August 7, 2012

"Dead Carpet"

There was that house
George used to pass
Every day driving
To work before he
Moved for better pay.

His friends missed him,
Friend's wives worried
George would shanghai
Their men and force
Them to think Mamaless.

That house, George kept
Remembering the Gillman’s
When they lived there,
Hulking orange van
Parked in the yard.

The kids called that van
And Mr. Gillman Punkin’,
For he was round and
Good-natured yet distant,
Like trees in November.

Punkin’s daughter Clara,
She could climb trees
Really good and fast too.
Clara had a quiet nature
Though and played out only.

Then they had moved, ‘cos
Punkin’ found another job,
Housed closer to it, miles away
Clara and her siblings left.
George wanted her to stay.

Somehow Clara met the
Bad Man, and he took her
From her Mama and Punkin’.
Left her in a shallow grave
Alive but too weak to climb.

The family was poor and
Didn’t inspire much social
Will to apprehend Bad Man.
They finally grieved back
Up north whence they came.

Their old place lost its spirit,
Clara’s playmates grew up.
When he decided to marry,
George left to pursue wealth
So his kids might fare better.

Before he went, George
Visited the house, the small
Faded pink-walled room
Upstairs with her ghost trees
Shading dead carpet meadows.

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