Cassi Clark, 1999
The house is silent like when she sleeps.
I sit alone collecting dust, brown sparkles
cling to my worn white ballet dress.
She will wash it when she returns. We will play
soon, we’ll have tea at the king’s and dance
at the Ball. She’ll be home before long
and she will tell me all about her trip
while she brushes my hair. I’ll listen,
as she confides all her secrets.
She will take me to the store and the park
and we will play again. She’ll return
and we will be together again.