Susan, left, with sister Carrie
In the morning
We never found it.
We crawled on the floor
Seeking
The little green bug
Tucked into a drawer
For safekeeping
The night before.
Tear stains
On that little face
So sad, so white
Framed in
Silky, smooth hair
So black.
Susan was angry, indignant…
“He stomped on my babies.”
I hope he brought them to HIS mother.
She was angry, indignant..
A pocketful of roaches
Shown off to
A bigger boy
And lost
To innocence.
Susan and her donkey Rogie. (As an adult, Susan enjoys larger creatures.)
A collection of bugs
Carefully pinned
To the inside cover
Of a shoe box
Desperate buzzing of treasures
Held captive who gnaw through
My very best scarf.
(Goodbye nice scarf…)
Susan on Hummer — and even larger.
View from Over the Hill 