Sitting on the basement’s wooden stairs,
staring down at Jim and Dad below,
knee-deep in water that doesn’t belong,
I see Dad is mad. Really mad.
Which makes me want to do something.
Say something.
“I wish I was the Flying Nun,” I sigh,
as I watch my favorite Barbie float by,
“so I could fly all over this mess.”
I long to soar above the world
on starched, white wings.
like Sister Bertrille each week on TV.
I want to make things better.
I want to put things right,
then rise above my house and over the trees,
around the schoolyard and up the street.
With this said, Dad suddenly stops being mad.
Smiling at me and shaking his head,
the earthbound task of clean-up begins.
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Author: Anne Celano Frohna
I am a writer, a mother of two girls, Eva (22) and Sophia (20) and wife to one husband, Kurt.
I was mostly a professional writer and editor for 25 years for graphic arts and advertising, for publishers of newspapers, magazines, books, etc.,. Now, I have this blog where I post my creative non-fiction, short stories, a couple of illustrated children's stories and a comedy I wrote about two years I spent teaching English in rural Japan (NOT a story for a child.).
I also have a shop on Etsy called ChannelingNonna where I’m selling the many vintage treasures I’ve collected over the years and continue to hunt down at thrift stores and yard sales.
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