Through the Trap Door
February 4, 2012 § Leave a comment
He crawled through the trap door
And walked around the fuschia-colored plastic purse,
Inspecting its shiny brass grommets
And the large bow that curled around the handles
Like an unrolled cinnamon bun.
The old woman assured him
Tha it was big enough to sleep six
And still have room to turn around in.