A kiss for you and you.
With curly hair braided damp
Sisters were tucked in by a lavender hue.
Covered in light from the nightlamp,
And a blanket the color of a swamp.
The wall clock knocked the time
Telling socked feet to end their roam
Our chests to raise in rhyme
And little ears to patiently comb
Their familiar home for Dad’s ragged metronome.
My childhood ear sore
I can hear it down the hall –
Yes, even through the door.
Somehow I miss that great Knaugh
Slipped from your slack-jawed maw.