Summer Poetry Slam Winner: Week 4
by: Lily Kidd
When I was little I would hide under clothes racks
while my mother browsed for the perfect denim fit.
I would crouch and wait until she moved far away
to another rack with clearance on linens and knits.
But then I'd pop out scared because I’d been hidden
too long to know exactly where she was.
And my heart would race in search of some trace
of the pink sweater with crystals and little fuzz balls.
But then suddenly I’d find her and forget how alone I felt
Now that she was there sifting through belts and neck ties.
So I’d be stealth like a snake and sneak again underneath
to secretly admire the lines that shaped her face.