1. Blankets


By Sarah Frank

There's a house on the hill by a path ever winding
From the window sill a young mother is calling
She flicks the porch-light on saying supper is ready
Steaming like the smoke from the chimney

Come crawling from the bush, matted curls, grubby fingers
Knobbly knees that have stood in the face of many dangers
She's built a mighty fort with a blanket for a shield
The breath of a lilac and flowers of the field

'Soon as she was in to dine on milk and potatoes
I snatched up that blanket, ran as fast as the wind blows
A knot in my stomach, the blanket a sail
Hiding my guilt like a cotton veil

I reached my hollow of wood chips and acorns
The sweet smell of pine and of earth after rainstorms
Though she may cry tears of salty white
I sigh with relief to be warm tonight

As I lay me down for to sleep in the darkness
I hear a bird moan two notes of loneliness
She sings for her baby who's lost in the wild
I wonder if my own mother is singing for her child