A NEW BED
I heard the town folk whisper
When we Pritchard’s came to town,
About three headed babies
And hot blood.
Mary held my hand to
Give me strength or her courage.
Papa looked mean
And growled orders at the boys.
I sat still and rubbed my belly
That kicked and itched,
While the horses shifted nervously
From side to side.
When the wood was loaded,
We headed back,
As we rode,
Papa spoke
Of the scriptures,
Of Lot and his daughters –
And said we’d visit Mama’s grave
Next trip to town.
We all stayed silent,
And followed our tracks with our eyes.
No one mentioned that
Papa was building a new bed.
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Be always safe,
Karen
I am going to put you on my tracker list as I will be reading more of you. Welcome to the den.