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by joanna Author IconMail Icon
Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Fantasy · #1435058
A dream from my childhood

I stood in line with the other children.
My mother was standing with me, and then
she was gone. And when
I got up to the wood-burning stove
the Witch picked me up and she
squeezed my blood backwards
into the stove.
My sister had been in line, but I had lost her
And anyway, I had to go into the oven.
I was placed on the bottom rack by the Witch
And as luck would have it, she placed my friend Keith
On the top rack. It was hot in there, I could see the fumes
from the heat but it was comfortable and dark and I knew
that Keith was right above me.
And even though we didn't get that hot, we baked and grew and
changed. I was wearing my guilty brown turtle-neck
sweater when we got out. Keith went with the Witch
as I looked for my mother
alone in my sweater.
© Copyright 2008 joanna (ajacrey at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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