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Rated: E · Poetry · Comedy · #2202725
A family lost in a furniture store.
At IKEA they lost their way, a family of five,
entrenched among the furniture, a clan
lost deep in time, amid Seth Thomas
grandfather clocks, between plush
sectionals…directionless these
suburbanites, Cathy and Joe,
plus the little ones: Robbie,
Amy and red-haired Ann.

Lazy Boy logistics
was of no help, nor
an explosive squawk of
cuckoo clock alerting for the
lost, where Joe said east and
Cathy insisted west, and the kids
merely hunkered down on inviting sofas.

Joe tore of piece of his orange flannel shirt:
“Here, tie this to that lamp; this way, if
we should see it again on our tireless
IKEA trek, we will at least know we
are going in circles.”  Cathy was
one to oblige, as they strode
onward, single file, like a
slither of happy family
winding on, panting
out anxieties past
Ralene tables. 

Joe sang camp
songs to keep up
morale…Cathy was
taken by the crystal in
lamps and the kids broke
ranks—climbed Poang chairs.
Spotting a window, an intense beam
of sunlight set hope in motion, like a gush
of refreshing waterfall it was for Joe, who in
fine fatherly form, blurted joyfully, “Hope
springs eternal!  I think we are found!”

37 Lines
Writer’s Cramp   
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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2202725