Carmen's morning hair
haystacks wildly, twin
tornadoes tearing through
farm and bedroom as mom
Julie performs magic tricks
calmly while the kid shrieks
bloody murder and somehow
feisty curls transform
into elegant coherence.
Golden straw now re-booted
into symmetric halos resting
in this post-storm quiet,
small ponds shimmering,
kissed by a hard-hat
pink and blue neon moon,
protecting her happy head
as Carmen scoots along
the park-bound sidewalk
towards swings, slides
and across the street
that bagel cream cheese
slathered.
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