Abandoned

She threw words at him

Like knives.

He had his own weapon of choice

Two eyes peered at them

Over Mr. Potato Head’s head

Overlooking the missing nose

Tiny footsteps, one by one

Holds the table to steady himself and finds

A jar of marmalade

And fresh bread.

The shattering of glass

And the cluttered floor

Stop the wrangle momentarily

Rushing in, she scoops him up,

“Are you alright, my love?”

Rushed off, soon,

As the floor sparkles clean

He gets lost in the Lost Boys

And Tiger Lily,

Leaving behind the morning clutter

The rest as quiet as a dove.

She threw words at him

Like knives.

He had his own weapon of choice

Shots were being fired in the lawn

Amidst sprinklers in the spring

He could hear them over Polo

Barking at his next door competitor

He crawled from under the broken fence

Like Polo did

Needed fixing, more said than done

They didn’t notice until the ice cream truck

Started incessant honking

He turned around, annoyed,

Only to find him in the hands

Of the across street flower vendor

“Are you alright, son?”

The fence was fixed the next morning.

She threw words at him

Like knives

He had his own weapon of choice

She pushed her plate of half diced tomatoes aside

To greet him properly in the hallway

Chewing on his caramel toffee

Little fingers found the dicing knife

Abandoned.

They didn’t hear him over their pleasantries

He didn’t cry for long anyway.