With Painted Words

Things that Fly

by Harmony Hodges

Vanilla flavored clouds

Turn austere and foreboding

As biplanes

And bi-winged dolls

Clamor for space.

They flit. They dart.

They flee from thee.

Some splash into each other.

Dead.

But

Most come home

Every night at six

When the boy down below

Turns off his remote control.

 

Now at the dinner table

Father looks pleasant

Mom serves pheasant

The boy looks out the window

And sister asks,

“What happened to my Barbie?”