Call the police and ask.
I was found
at the train station when I was three
trying to buy a tickey to see my papa.
The sheriff said I was going
to be sold for my hair –
turned white blonde like cotton
after Dad gave up his promotion
moved us down to Tucson
because she made the doctor think
Larry had asthma.
I told the sheriff she wasn’t my mother.
But she got me
put me on a leash
and wrote Iodine in breezy letters on the backs
of my baby pictures. I’m not seen
in any photos till my wedding day.
But I’m not missing. I’m here
in this long gray hall.
It’s so bright the floors
and walls look slick.
The windows won’t open
in case we slip and fall out.
Honey, not a hospital.
I’m not hurt.
This is a hotel, the moon
I am just traveling through.
Emily Davis-Fletcher has a BFA in creative writing from Stephens
College and an MA in women’s studies from the National University of
Ireland Galway. Her poetry has been published in Southword, Crannóg
Magazine, the Irish Examiner, and HCE Review, among other journals.
She placed third in the 2016 Just Add Words Video Description Contest
and judged the 2016 Magnolia Gardens Poetry Competition. Currently,
Emily is writing a first collection of poetry and is thankful to have
been selected to read at the Introductions Reading at the 2018 Cork
International Poetry Festival.
Links to work online: