Pinocchio Writing & Art Contest (Like/Comment on Your Favorite!)
Finalist # 9 – Magda Andrew-Hoke, Poem – Pinocchio
Pinocchio
Through his fingers in the dark he sees ticking clocks.
through wooden fingers
timeless limbs
he hears the tick of time passing in the shop
of his false father.
He senses the passing of time
tick tock and tock tick
and the click clack of wooden fingers,
shutters for his wooden eyes
In the nighttime no one can see the difference between here and there
or floor and ceiling
or wood and flesh
He wishes to hear the soft rubbing of flesh fingers over flesh face
Soft rubbing is more comforting in the dark night than
click clack click clack
He lies and says he likes himself
just the way he is, he says
He lies and says wood is flesh, flesh is wood, family is family
He lies and says he does not need others made of click and clack
But he likes trees
He lies. He lies. He lies.
He believes in God
He does not believe in a flesh God
and this reassures him
But he does not believe in a wooden God
but one of miracles and goodness
He thinks that if he wishes hard enough just hard enough
He will hear the rubbing of soft fingers on face
as he cowers in the dark of the wooden shop
and this miracle
would be from God
to whom he would never lie
Philadelphia Stories, Junior 