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DIBS
Earthworms leave the now-soaked ground
and adorn the sidewalk,
forcing my second-grade feet
to tip-toe past them
on my way to the school bus stop.
A chant rises from the bottom of the street
where the other children are lined up.
"We hate susan," they say in unison,
spurred by Sheila Rayball,
who is jealous of the new bicycle i got
for my birthday.
I pray the bus won't be late today.
Just as I take my place in line
I see my cat, Fluff,
and I leave my lunchbox in line
and call, "Dibs" to save my place
while I go to seek comfort with my cat.
But Sheila throws stones at her
and kicks my lunchbox out of the way,
leaving me last in line.
It's just as well;
from there no one can see my mittens wipe away
the stains of sadness
that melt silently down my cheeks
as the bus rounds the corner.
copyright Susan "Sam" Madden
http://www.fortunecity.co.uk/meltingpot/clyde/207/
