Maggie by Howie Good

You were in the third grade the first time you wrote on a wall. The older girls made fun of your spelling. Strange that all these years later you’d wind up singing “Woohoo! Woohoo!” surrounded by thousands of dollars’ worth of banjos. The tips of your fingers must be sore and bloody. But here’s what I don’t understand – your eyes don’t want to close. You watch for signs of change, maybe trees thrashing about in a kind of panic or birds wobbling in midair as they fly from tree to tree. If you can do that trick, you can do this one. If you can do this one, you can do that one. We run things in the forest when the wolf isn’t around.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s