Family friction Poems
Her
by Poppy Harman
The air in this house is spiked,
The tension palpable, expectant—Insidious,
It sneaks in like smoke
Seeping through the crack under the door,
My door with the roses around,
They should bare their thorns but I quietly tell them to bloom,
To raise their faces to the sun, to be their best selves,
They smile sweetly, non-committal in their nonchalance
......
Her
by Poppy Harman
The air in this house is spiked,
The tension palpable, expectant—Insidious,
It sneaks in like smoke
Seeping through the crack under the door,
My door with the roses around,
They should bare their thorns but I quietly tell them to bloom,
To raise their faces to the sun, to be their best selves,
They smile sweetly, non-committal in their nonchalance
......
