FOUNDLINGS, Elizabeth Kerlikowske

FOUNDLINGS
by Elizabeth Kerlikowske
 
Mud and daub, pickets and pansies
the older girl leaves the kitchen for the lane once a day 
looking for you or you
anyone to make the fighting stop 
or take her away. 
The old man and his pitchfork 
old lady cupping her good ear. 
Tatters and bricks, scraps and mortar, 
she needs a dress that fits her new woman’s body. 
Shoes that were only ever hers. 
Never to see a chicken again. 
Her hand on the gate the only thing 
that keeps her from running away 
and gratitude.
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