Four stair step girls, baby cheeks and blonde
play in an army blanket tent in the living room
under the card table and call it camping out.
The itchy green wool smells like father
cigarettes and old spice mixed with sweat
a scent only a hero daddy brings home.
Later, that blanket, spread on sugar white sand
hotter than summer sun and scratchy still
anchors a family to the picnic and the love.
Years pass, a thin green blanket greets a daughter
lost in a dorm room and a crazy love
wiping away almost grown-up fears and tears.
She’s clung to many illusions and half truths since
thoughts that perhaps a soft old army blanket
might solve a world problem or two.