Caren Krutsinger Poet Narrative

My Reading Summer

I hauled my seven book up to the treehouse in the morning
these library books were about E.S.P., runes, and tarot cards
I live in an Iowa small town, where everybody knows everybody
The neighbors are out hanging clothes on their clotheslines
They wave to each other and chatter as they pin

I watch them for a tiny bit, hearing every word
mainly boring stuff, like what they are fixing for dinner
One of them is a terrific pie baker, I try to hear her words
Just laughter from her today; laughing while pinning?
It seems strange to eleven-year-old me.

I am camouflaged in my treehouse wedged in cottonwood trees.
Their silver green pointed leaves hide me from view.
I have a pillow up here, which I lean on, as I read.
Movement catches my eye. A large black ant.
I follow his progress up the tree trunk. He is frantic.

I wish the librarian would let me get more than seven books.
I have to go back every day for my next seven.
Every day I do this for the entire summer.
This is the summer that I read – mysteries, autobiographies and fiction.
Reading takes me to other places than small town Iowa.

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