Not Even Doublewide

Light comes on. Smoke breaks out.
They—in nightclothes, in fits—
open the blue trailer door, fall
to the dew and scream at my fire.

They think I am still asleep
inside the burning blue trailer.

There are houses with so much
banister and window and hearth.
Houses that never stopped at redlights.
Houses without the hazards on.

We had little.
Little burns quick.

Copyright © 2004 A. Loudermilk All rights reserved
from Margie
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission