National treasures appeared on my wall one night
Priceless artwork loomed above the bursting sound of my grumbling belly
I leaned close, minding the invisible rope
Reaching out, I tried to borrow a cup of sugar from God’s outstretched finger,
but that old Michelangelo tossed a bucket of water in my direction.
I shivered beneath the crystal drops.
Lifting my chin, I said,
“Papa’s with me too, not just on your crooked ceiling.”
Copyright © 2012 Kimberly Yarbrough Carpenter