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Board Administrator Username: mjm Post Number: 4012 Registered: 11-1998 |
Honorable Mention Les Enfants d’hier (Yesterday’s Children) Mia (for Sylvia Plath) After forty years of exile the woman returns to her home, backyard now buckling under milkweed honeysuckle, hollyhocks. The ash and remainder of the fence so much like the ribcage of animal tossed on its side. Upstairs, knots of dark yellow and sounds of small voices seep through the black fenestra. Quietly the shape of a woman slips into the house dank with its smell of obsolescence. She calls to them, Mes enfants! Viennent. Feet pad through the halls, giggles wind through the rafters, dust lands in her hair. But they are nowhere to be found and she cannot remember their names. |
