Snowstorm

Daddy broke the TV last night.

Spider web cracks across a dark screen.

I burned my finger on static,

Trying to turn it on--

Just a black and white snowstorm.

He didn’t mention it.

He might not remember.

But doesn’t he wonder?

I took the VCRs to my room.

Princesses and talking animals.

Kids’ movies, mostly.

But I was afraid he’d sell them,

And they hold parts of me.

We watched them together.