Someday I won’t have to wear
pinafores on Sundays or baby doll
shoes with thin plastic straps, jammed
skin-tight under a pink satin bow.
When I’m on own, those flats are
not invited. I’ll find some almost new
Chuck Taylors and Levi Strauss jeans
for three or four bucks, patiently
waiting on me at the Gideon Gift
and Thrift, so I will look swell.
Someday I’ll have my own apartment
or maybe a room upstairs in a white
clapboard house full of other boarders
with nice names like Joe and Cindy.
I could babysit their kids if the TV
works or watch them outside if
the weather is pretty enough
to build fairy houses in dogwood
trees and bead berry necklaces
with a straight needle and thread.
Someday, I’ll light a second hand candle
in an empty Seagram’s Seven bottle
for fifteen minutes each night, stretching
the flame a whole two weeks.
Then I can fashion poems by candle light
and a transistor radio until I can afford
an eight track to rock with Chick Berry.
And if the ghost of my Daddy comes calling
At night, it won’t bother me at all.
Peggy Douglas has been published in various
non-fiction scholarly journals, the 2007 and 2009 Kakalak
Anthology of Carolina Poets and the 2009 Knoxville Writer's
Guild Poetry Anthology, Bleeding Heart, the University of
Maine’s, Binnacle Poetry Journal, and The Light of Ordinary
Things 2009 Poetry Anthology by Fearless Books. She was also the
recipient of the 2004 Antioch Writers Conference Short Fiction