Food Fight and Resultant Flight
I dabbed the food flecks off of my face
and skittered at a quickening pace,
my tattered hem dragged from the grasp
of my tormenter’s cruel clasp.
Chattering teeth betrayed that place
where I had ended flight and pace
to squeeze my frame into a nook
where my pursuer would never look.
But, trapped within the prison I chose,
I felt the world around me close.
So, squinting out between the slats,
I spied the confirmation that’s
evidence of that scalding truth
that drove me from seclusion’s booth.
Freedom’s worth more than former wishes
to avoid doing the dishes!!
Prompts for The Sunday Swirl Wordle 614 are: tattered chattering drag dabbed face hem trapped frame squinted cruel flecks skittered scalded







