A Strange
Mind
-
Joy
S. Barefoot
The old
woman
sat
contentedly
weeding her molding
black
concrete sidewalk.
A small head
peaked from
underneath
the bushes.
Oh, she
thought,
a turtle, so
cute.
She went on
with
her weeding.
She looked
again.
the neck was
longer.
“Eeek” she
screamed,
threw her
trowel
high into the
air,
fell onto
her backside,
rolling
away,
as she tried
to escape
the turtle
that became
a wicked
evil
and most
frightening
garden snake.
Rubber Band Games
(a genetic thing)
-Joy Stalvey Barefoot
Now where, oh where, could he be?
Hadn't seen him for quite a while.
Things were a little too quiet
so I was searching his mischievous smile.
I called out from the back door,
perhaps he had gone outside,
but nature was still in order
. . . not there, I was satisfied.
Room by room, I searched the house.
That grandson was hiding somewhere.
The guest room door was closed up tight
so I figured I'd find him in there.
I opened the door to have a look
and Granddad peered up at me.
He was down on his knees, behind the bed
. . . caught, red-handed, I could see.
He looked at me with a sheepish grin;
then sighted right down his hand
at a little blond head, ducking and weaving,
as he fired off his rubber band.
