Thinking of the sugar and spice ingredients of girls that frosted the Bible- school lawn, and watching the hired girl through the cat's pupil in the Christian door - I remember how one Sunday's coaxing got a cousin of mine behind the woodshed. The fumbling I have long since forgotten, but even to this day I can remember the sphinx- like expression on my mother's face, and how she whipped us with a stick that didn't stop trembling until it broke to pieces in her beautiful hands.
I remember this tale from Collected Poems. Perhaps like you, I've wondered why the fair sex can make such a fuss about a bit of reflected light piercing something so obscure as a keyhole. LOL
Best regards,
Leland
You certainly tell a good tale. I was just reading some of your other works and decided to track you. I have a poem called Sugar & Spice as well but it's a bit different. ;) You seem to keep your reader involved in a casual and comforting way. Very good.
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The poems in this beautifully bound book are a result of over twenty years of observations. Observations of the world around us and on the telecommunications network. All of the hate, love, heroism, disasters, and those who help.
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Best regards,
Leland
JC