She grew up to be wild, but ended up a street-urchin, teen-age mother.
For the sake of her kids she grew up fast and found herself a moderate dwelling, she had to feed and protect them, and that made her wise.
Wise but exhausted she watched as they twilight-twirled in their dreams
They sleep with the moon veiled and protected by blackness she left them to scavenge the dumpsters for food.
Last night she had found a half-eaten burger and the night before she found gravy-soaked fries
It had been raining, but the puddles had dried leaving no freshness behind.
She tiptoed close to the walls not to cast any shadows and pulled by the scent from a hot-dog she navigated through the reek of urine and booze from a hobo snoring away.
She a fox-mother, queen of the city, was proud to survive.
Today at dVerse prosery hosted by Merrill we are writing prose in maximum 144 characters that also has to include the following quote
“In their dreams
they sleep with the moon.”
Also, I wanted to be prepared for this Thursday where I host dVerse Open Link and a real online event. Join us early at 3PM EST and meet other poets in an attempt to have a real open mic event.
September 14, 2020