Poems & Essays

24 Feb

Pippi Longstocking

General/Column One Response

I had to raise myself, she might say
not in a disparaging or contemptuous way
but with her inimitable braided delight.
How fun she made it all look 
to live in a rambling, ramshackle house,
sliding down banisters in her striped socks.
We all loved reading about her
on the blue couch that seemed to sink
us into each other, but no one more
than my son. He wanted me 
to make him thick braids
out of red yarn, clip them 
into his black curls with his sister’s
barrettes. So I did, and he became Pippi
for months, soaring around the playground
in his cowboy boots, striped shirt,
those braids stretched out behind him
like red kite strings.

Sarah Dickenson Snyder has written poetry since she knew there was a form of writing with conscious linebreaks. She has three poetry collections: The Human Contract (2017), Notes from a Nomad (nominated for the Massachusetts Book Awards 2018), and With a Polaroid Camera (2019). Recently, poems have appeared in Artemis, The Sewanee Review, and RHINO.

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1 Comment

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  1. Jo

    February 25, 2020 at 7:32 pm

    This is gorgeous. I love it so much.


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