The wood is damp and I am afraid Sitting on a stump My favorite stump In my uncle’s orchard. It’s a cold day, The grass is slick and wet against My heels But I don’t mind, I like going barefoot. Barefoot is my favorite.
Stumps help you avoid parties. I don’t like them. I always have a habit of sneaking Out the back door whenever my Uncle decides to ring up old Friends. A few, he says. It’s never a few. Then I open the door and feel the Grass on my heels As I find my stump in the dark Thinking to myself, This grass is wet. Truthfully, I’d be worried if it Wasn’t
Stumps are good for singing. I like singing When I’m far away from the parties. My uncle and his friends always Ask me to sing No, I say. I do not like that. They do not like my singing like The stump likes my singing. Sometimes When I sit alone I will sing low and soft, and Bury my feet in the moss. The stump likes this. I make the stump cry with my Singing But those are times when it’s dark And I am not afraid
This time, I will sing low And soft And bury my feet in the moss And I will not go back to the party.
It’s quiet out. I watch my uncle Shut off the porch light.