I was playing with my friend Ben
who had a three-legged dog
and lived on top of a hill
where his road stopped in a pile of sand.
He swore at me and I walked out,
Ben’s father was sleeping by his sketches.
I walked through the scrubby prickly woods
that pressed close over the dirt road.
I bravely passed a big loose black dog
I walked for miles alone.
If any cars passed, I don’t remember.
It must’ve been Saturday morning
because the town library was open.
I went in.
The librarian called my mother
and my parents rushed frantic,
Ben’s father having woken to my absence.
My father says
this is when he stopped
worrying about me.
(Will I be waiting in the library forever?)