The Sleep Sack – a poem by Annie Powell Stone

The Sleep Sack

It’s Prehistoric Boys Two, 
a scroll-down choice,
but you can’t tell they’re dinosaurs from the doorway.
Instead it looks like a house dress, floral,
and he a puttering housewife 
pacing and muttering.
Or
it’s a robe
and he’s a tiny priest.
When his brother comes in
he anoints him with teething drool,
touching his head.

Annie Powell Stone (she/ her) is a writer, tutor, and fan of peanut butter toast living in Baltimore City with her husband and two kiddos. Read more of her poetry on Instagram: @anniepowellstone.

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