A poem a day keeps the cobwebs off my keyboard.
|When my brother was four
He took issue with some parental decisions
and not liking the restrictions
Set out in the snow
To run away from home
He packed some food because
My brother was no fool
Took along his loyal hound
The obedient rolling beagle-on-a-string
And dressed for the storm
(To this day I have no idea how he got in that snow suit
by himself - did my parents help him go? Worrisome.)
And resolutely freed himself
from the family bonds
that were holding back his dreams
He got to the top of the street before he decided to turn around.
At four, he had no clear destination
And didn't want to miss dinner
At seven, I was glad my brother came back
'Cause I really liked that dog on a string.
Prompt: Make Jayne laugh, so naturally, I have written a tragic story from my childhood.