Two Sisters

Two sisters
Daily chores
Work to do

A small request
A tiny sip
Of water from the spring

Younger girl
Yes, of course
Diamonds from her lips

Older child, refused
Had only vipers
She could spit

In the looking glass
Haunted by the tale
Which sister do I see?

----
The Fairies by Charles Perrault http:/www.pitt.edu/~dash/perrault05.html
is great tale that rewards compassion. This is my wish for myself. This link is a short retell if and worth the visit.
The moral is retold in two different versions by author Robert D San Souci in The Talking Eggs

and
The Well at the End of the World. 

Haunted (When the Minutes Drag)

I still miss you.
Holding your hand on the damp subway platform
And hearing the clack of your heels.
Never loved a woman that way before.
Never felt so overprotective, stupid, naïve
Before I spied you, post- interview, face a mess.
I can smell the piss and hear the hiss
Of the air brakes.
I turn without looking and leave.
I leave for what I know,
Where I can see the ground
Before my foot can land.
----
My first fiction piece is the subject of this poem, inspired by the title of Love and Rockets' "Haunted (When the Minutes Drag)."

Primitive

Primitive

Away from the house
Under the clothes line
Down the short ridge
And over the lawn
Go through the plum trees
That sprout round the ditch
Boldly step into your own primitive country
There are hills, but you can't see them
Grass and growth so tall, you can hardly see
Yourself
You can wear many hats,
Any hat, here
There is the skunk tree
And the bush that can be hidden under.
The skunk tree has a mysterious x
Carved right there on the trunk
What does it mean, but that your hat today
Belongs to a buccaneer?
When you come back the way you came
You can stop in the valley
Build a nest for me and you.
We will be birds, feathered and safe.

--------
My great-grandmother's home had a large back yard but after the back border of tangled plum trees, in the center of the block, there was a wilderness of imagination. I tried to put my feelings about this overgrown and protected place in this poem.

Nevada Stars

I climbed the wooden ladder
Lay on wooden beams
When I opened my eyes
A gasp caught in my throat.
Stars, so thick,
Like stew,
Were smeared across the sky.
I could taste them,
Seasoned with the desert air.
Nevada stars are closer,
Not to the Earth, but to each other.
Here they dance on the glistening ebony of the sky.
Kiss, flirt and spin away.
These stars stick in my mind's eye
If you want to see them too, avoid Sin City's neon glow
And take Hwy 95 to the middle of nowhere
Then turn at the bend.
You'll know you've made it
when you can see them through your tears.