A flower petal dress.
A girl sips tea with dolls.
Her innocent lips.
Her mouth says, open.
No sesame. No forty thieves.
A girl locates a half smoked cigarette.
Hidden in the dirt.
Behind the milkweed
as she sought stones to serve as teacakes.
A girl picks up pieces of a broken promise.
Her fingers run the puzzling edges.
Her fingers peel the white paper.
Tobacco oils stain her fingertips.
A girl pinches her nose.
She traffic-cops her dolls.
There are seven intersections between here
and her bedroom.
A girl sets the paper and tobacco down.
Adjacent to her mother’s lipstick.
Between two citrus scented candles.
On top of her Altoids tin.
copyright © 2020 Kenneth P. Gurney