Who am I to Deny a Skeleton a Little Fun?
My closet successfully stays orderly
for weeks (sometimes months) on end, shoes neatly arranged,
sweaters seasonally separated from t-shirts -
enjoy running my hands over and through
carefully arranged pants, scarves, purses
until, inevitably, the restraints burst
and the skeleton in my closet breaks into his best Fred Astaire,
aping about to the tune of my Mother's "tales"
exposing my teenage vice; she a stay at home mom
fixated (or so I thought) on unimportant matters.
Came home from school one day,
backyard bonfire burning brightly -
Mother humming at kitchen sink. Gasped
when an immaculate room greeted me.
As a mother now, I smile. Imagine the glee
I'd feel doing the same, warn my teenage girls
of the possibility. But then again, if I'm not careful,
they may one day return the favor
and then my skeleton
wouldn't have the fun of tap-dancing
every now and then.
|A sign of a sick mind ;) (My husband's side the closet)|
You didn't think you'd get a look at my side, did you?
by Margaret Bednar, December 5, 2017
This bit of confession is linked with "The Imaginary Garden of Real Toads - Camera Flash" and to "The Imaginary Garden of Real Toads - The Tuesday Platform".