The Puppeteer

April 9, 2009 § 9 Comments

1752_antique_handmade_wooden_doll_puppet_11The prompt is “a memory.”

 

 

 

 

One summer I was a puppeteer.

I traveled in a van filled with

marionettes and two gentlemen.

One was my lover, the other no one.
Every night we did a show (it was Peter Pan).
Every day we drove for hours to reach the next location.
Cross county we wound, though endless fields
of farming America, the roads dusty and long.
Mile after mile, I dosed,

pulling from my roots all I could remember:
my father’s hands, my mother’s voice, my

quarreling with my sisters. My cats,

my fears, my losses, my unmet needs.

No visions of the future.

 

Writer’s Digest prompt April 9, 2009

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