by Meghan Prichard ('07)

When we broke bread,
Were lead out of writing, reading books in bed,
were poor as South State Assistance;
The sunfish were born for make-believe spreads.

We were sun burnt, wrinkled,
Bleeding from the forbidden dam.
Coming back home to Father;
A silk bed lays over brown dampened sand.

When we woke
the waves wished for a pebbled,
seaweed green shore.
The earthworms underneath us
wanted floods; muddy tunnels without doors.

Just the three of us went hunting,
For that tangled mating bait.
We bent ourselves over just to see them.
Each worth the tiny ball back ache.

Father was up before the sun broke,
Baking bread, flipping 'cakes, spreading butter.
The baseboard creaked and cracked.
I heard him tell my sister how he loved her.

That place was love before I knew it.
I cannot own it; I will not return.
What was given up so willingly
Still out-does what I have earned.