Crawling
into the way, way back
of her closet,
created behind the eaves
Far side of the get up’s
for this season,
and in back of the garb
for next

Quieted,
in her hiding spot,
that no one knew about
. . . a feat in itself, for herself
She’d fret,
if ever,
having her swear to,
if she were asked to,  keep a secret!

Thither
on the ceiling,
she drew pictures
and penciled in her life’s memories
Remembering . . .
while lying there,
on a heap of old, neglected stuffed animals
She rationalized. . . .

Time,
as it brings her other places,
someone might find this, her prescience,
knows what that she’s about . . .
and with whom she did, done, and had her doubts,
and all her sins . . .
"God forbid!", she spit
. . .and erased it!

Copyright 2007
Kimmy Van Kooten