PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Chapter 2

Her uncle scooped up the cat in a football hold and tucked it inside his shirt But not before it hissed and shot a glowering look upon her face. Hidden from sight she pictured the cat scurrying down a flight of stairs inside her uncles jacket to a workshop set in stone. There she would rake her nails on a diamond emery with the girl's name embossed upon it. Margaret. 
 Margaret Allen Peyer. Her mother an Allen her father a Peyer with pioneer stories celebrated in marble as in the square of her great grandmother who lead the wagon trains. Sometimes not even a train but a single family or scout or as with her great grandfather Allen a doctor of medicine and all things unseen. 
But now air progeny laid out in pine boxes like sacrificial beings an alter as its backdrop. We all sat facing forward toward that alter and a figure sone would think sinister sidled in from the side room. He humphEd abd turned pages a mind solemn looked out above the congregation. 
sad day