I began with small ears flat
against my head.
They grew bigger each year
astounded by what they heard.
As a child I had a voice that wasn’t
appreciated. I wanted to know where
babies came from, why Grandma
never laughed at Grandpa’s jokes.
In the middle of the story I was bound up,
told I was a woman, to put heels on my feet,
gloves on my hands.
My heart longed for a guy named Mickey.
He might have been my soul mate, if he hadn’t been
so damned cute. Yet I’m not complaining,
I gained a happy attitude once
I stepped out
of polka dot dresses
a little less plastic.
Published Whistling Girls and Cackling Hens, Sandra Larson, Pudding House Chapbook Series, 2003