desperately adding hours to my log,
busy, concentrating,
and then
I hear soft whispers,
clinking,
and I wonder.
is there trouble?
are they naughty?
minutes pass
I log time
then two girls enter
dressed for party
or something
and instead of naughty
I find nice
they lead me
through one door
and short hall
eyes closed
we bump ankles
but I open to find
this:
a table decorated by two
like me.
Tonight is pizza night, but I think we'll be eating on better than paper plates.
1 comment:
Beautiful job, ladies.
Guiding shows, Momma.
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