[hey poet, tell me a story] or, #3 Red Eyes

Hey there! If you haven’t read the previous parts of this poem story, feel free to catch up here and here. 🙂

And now, without further ado, poem #3, Red Eyes.

~

“Where’s Mama?”

I ask Daddy

when I come in home from school.

~

“In there,” he grunts,

jerks a thumb towards their bedroom.

The door is shut tight.

~

I know what that means.

It means Mama hasn’t finished crying and

she doesn’t want me to see her red eyes.

~

Funny – Daddy doesn’t hide his eyes.

~

Red eyes mean Daddy was gone all night

again.

They mean the corn is still too small.

They mean the blue china pot on the shelf

is slowly but surely losing its stash of quarters.

~

Red eyes mean bread and soup for dinner

again.

They mean broken butter dishes and stifled tears.

They mean silence so thick you could wring it out

and hang it up to dry.

~

Red eyes mean still no rain.

~

Poem #4 coming next week, same place, same day. See you there! 😉