Five siblings inherit a blanket. They lie beneath it, together, to stay warm.
          But arms and legs stick out and the siblings squabble and tug. They do
          not realize that they would all fit if they just moved closer together.

This is the Blanket Story. Poets, artists, and musicians have responded to this tale in creative ways. All poems appear here, our ONLINE POETRY SHOWCASE. Visit our main page to find out more about the project.

Gail Denham

So Many Years

We drew a line down the bed’s
middle. “Not one toe over the line,”
I told my sister. Cold nights, I reneged.

“And no more using my sweaters,”
I warned. Maybe I scared her. Who
knows? I wasn’t a very good older

sister. Mean and didn’t notice her
much. I regret that all days. She’s
still my friend though. Amazing.

Yet, from the time I used to tell
her and little bro ghost stories,
(at their request), I did care,

just had trouble thinking past
my own troubles and happenings.
Then came children.

Our four sons, their friends;
all the fun, joy, trials, upsets.
Nothing better than snuggling

to read them a book at night,
or kiss them off to school
each day with a prayer.

After that, grandkids totally wiped
out personal absorption. It was all
for them, from day one, no question.

Strange it seems, it takes so many
years not to care about the line
down the middle, or sweaters.