They have come, again

Poetry | S. Haya

They’ve brought their painted faces,

And their long horse hairs sway,

They’ve brought their funny gazes.

Now they’re going to hold me in phases

And Mo won’t take me away,

They’ve brought their painted faces.

They’ll laugh and eat small cakes Mo places

Before them on that nice cream tray,

They’ve brought their funny gazes.

They’ll sit awkwardly in their small dresses,

And while they’re here Mo won’t look my way.

They’ve brought their painted faces.

I now know their thoughts without guesses;

“He’s so cute,” they will all say,

They’ve brought their funny gazes.

And long after they’ve gone, lingering traces

Of their flower smell will still stay.

They’ve brought their painted faces.

They’ve brought their funny gazes.