The Tall Tale and Wee Child
Dedicated to My Father with Endless Love
My child’s serious eyes targeted me as his prize.
I could see pondering and wondering forming words
for my small child’s mumbling.
“Mommy, Daddy says you’re short”, he spoke.
“People come in all sizes.”
“Will I come in short?” he questioned.
“Would you care?”
“Don’t think so,” he shared.
“Good, since I’m only a short woman because I was born a
short man. When a young man, I despised being short. I
was a shy sort, wanting a growth spurt that never came.
One day, when alone and apart, I sat with my hurt on
isolated railroad tracks. Deep in day dreams, wiggling
my toes in pebbly dirt, I nearly missed the train’s loud
arrival which risked my survival. Suddenly upon me, the
train was deafening and looming, so my feet took to zooming.
I barely missed fatal harm, but that train did batter my left
arm. My elbow was pointed up towards my face, looking
angry and gangly. I don’t know why, I may never know, but
I kissed that torn elbow and instantly changed into a girl who
didn’t care to grow.”
“Did your Mommy buy you new clothes?”
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