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I clutch the covers tight
shadows of long arms and
legs dance on the bedroom wall.
Afraid to breathe,
a pain like a wasp sting
zaps my body,
I pray someone will come
to soothe my fears or whisper a story;
to rub my brow and
give me a sense of security.
A child of Old Mother Hubbard,
left to master the arts and
to rear and to nurture my needs.
There were no time-outs:
no discussions of whether John Glenn
was left hanging in space;
or if the world was going to end; or
if UFO's would attack the earth.
I don't dare seek answers outside the home!
Morning will come,
shadows will disappear and
as months and years go by,
time and maturity will answer
unanswered mysteries
lingering in my mind.
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