Poetry Daily: http://www.poems.com/

The Damage


We were knee-deep in packing paper when the cherub's head fell off. The day before we'd driven nine hours. We'd only spoken through three. Now we were in the home we had to make. Thank God, he said. That hideous thing. I know it's hideous, I said, but I loved it. I did.


Emma Bolden

Inch

Issue 19 - Winter 2012


To view this poem online, visit the Poetry Daily archive at http://www.poems.com/archive.php
View a large-print version of this poem