She was the elder person of the moment,
Paid hire-in for the younger ones
I was just a younger friend, after all
And I recall Catherine’s striking features,
Her gold-streaked brunette hair,
Wavy in youth,
Bouncing in nature,
Knowing now that she had a certain toss to it
When Scott hung around.
There is some understanding on my part today
That I realize the trauma that could have been
Imparted, in the wide-eyed acceptance
Of her request,
“Come with us, let’s play a game,
Let’s play spy, you’ll pretend
To be the guard.”
And the surprise of meeting Scott didn’t seem
To surprise Catherine,
Down there at the old barn, where she said
The secrets of the spies
Were to be exchanged,
Where I was to guard the window,
Watch the house, let them know
If the enemy was coming.
They moved toward the back of the barn,
To share spy secrets, Catherine saying
“Watch carefully,” and then,
I tired quickly of the only enemy being
Some cawing crows,
And inquisitive grasshoppers,
For the younger kids were napping.
Strangely, I felt that I did not belong,
[not the first time]
But I had not been privy to so many secrets
Of that time,
And it was only later I learned that
My undoing was in being that good girl,
In obeying my elders.
I think, had I looked,
I would have spied more than they.
[This message has been edited by Decaflame (05-06-2003 05:17 PM).]