Mud halfway
between my foot and knee –
and I wasn’t tall,
but the mud was deep,
squishy and porous.
The mud didn’t exactly
feel good – there were sticks
and hay and who knows what else.
It was the slowest I’ve eve
walked because it was sticky
and so uncertain.
“Sally’s in the duck pond!
Get out at once!”
The harsh words did not
reach me or redirect my steps.
I ignored the demands
to get out at once. I
was in the duck pond and
that was where I wished
to remain – period!
When I finally did come
out, I was covered with
the most peculiar slime.
Sticking out of the mud
were globs, sticks and
sometimes water running down.
When I walked, pieces of
mud broke off and fell.
I wore my mud leather stockings
for the rest of my brother’s birthday party.