Dear Zelda



Dear Zelda,

You smile at me every morning

on the TV while the plaid clown

and that funny old man run around.

Mom says you’re in the USA.

You can see me all the way in Australia.

Can you come visit me?

Read me a poem like you

said to the red and white dog

yesterday.  I have a dog like that.

When I’m cold,

I think of your smile under the straw hat

with red peppers

and a chin strap.  I liked

when you showed the book

and talked to that really big elephant.




The clown throws a cigarette

in the trash, starts a fire.

The old man, Mr. Otis,

does mime for waiting guests .

On air, Zelda interviews the fire marshal.

C.J. Prince




zodiac signs on parchment

A traditional holiday table,

you might think,

with lights higgledy piggelty

on the front porch

and a bare Christmas tree

because the five year old cat

is still a kitten.


Grandparents, both children,

one grandson, one great grandson.

Two vegans, one low glycemic,

one vegetarian and an omnivore.

Three teetotalers, a wine epicurean,

a margarita aficionado,

plus the six year old.


One dying, one with a headache,

two bike riders,

one child with more energy

than five adults.


No presents.  Who has money

for obligation?  Santa filled stockings.

One atheist, no two. One pondering.

One pagan.  Two Scorpio ascendants,

a double Cancer, a double Gemini,

the Aquarian and grandmother Capricorn.




C.J. Prince