Wednesday, April 10, 2013


Crawling under a table
fourth grader's storm shelter
I read until
the rain demanding
entrance at the library’s
windows was forgotten

teachers whispered and clucked
my odd behavior
promptly reported
did my parents know the
disquieting quirks of
their youngest born

“I was scared of the storm,”
I defended
“I did what made me feel safe.”

Some fears you don’t outgrow
others newly added
safety was long ago
I lie curled
 body a crooked s
quaking under cover

Small comfort in the insistent
warmth of the cat
purring behind my knees
for the storms to pass

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