Suzanne O'Connell | Poet

My Captive

I stalked her petticoats like a caged shrimp,

noticed when she shaved her legs,

when her skirt was an inch shorter,

when she wore two different white socks,

traced the raisin shaped scar on her knee.

 

A thread dangled from her hem,

a tease, a mystery that would unlock

the other side of the world.

I imagined what would happen

if I pulled it.

 

Would she unravel?

Become a coccoon spinning toward me?

Could I use it to tie her to the tetherball pole?

She never noticed me once.

I could wrap that thread around my finger–

a reminder never to forgive her.

 

 

Poet Lore

Fall, 2016

Nominated by Poet Lore for a Pushcart Prize