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Mrs. McCluskey
by Kristina WoodhillMrs. McCluskey
what have you done
there's that look on your face
once again
it's a tiny but weird
little twinge of your cheek
that tells me you're
thinking of him
Mrs. McCluskey
what did you do
you're the crust of a
pie you once baked
you serve up like
custard yet crunch
with a bite and I'm
fearing there's
something you've faked
Mrs. McCluskey
how old are you now
and when did he
vacate your world
as I jog by your place
you are speaking
to spaces
square emptiness
filled with
round words
Mrs. McCluskey
what would I find
if I looked
through the shelves
of your life
and was that a sleeve
I glimpsed deep
in your freezer
and should we have
cream with your pie?
04/23/2007
Author's Note: Wisteria Lane revisited
Posted on 04/24/2007
Copyright © 2025 Kristina Woodhill
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Gabriel Ricard on 04/24/07 at 03:45 AM Really interesting image and character you've captured here. Very strong, very vivid. |
| Posted by P.T. Brooks on 04/26/07 at 02:23 PM hmm, ill have to read this onw again |
| Posted by Dave Fitzgerald on 04/27/07 at 02:32 PM Lovely images, reminds me of and old woman I used to do odd jobs for as a kid. She always used to give me milk an biscuits as payment. You could tell she was lonely though. Great write Kristina |
| Posted by Quentin S Clingerman on 04/28/07 at 01:50 AM A wonderfully worded tale of the macabre! Don't know that I'd want Mrs.McCluskey for a neighbor! ;0) |
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