Text by Barbara Kaye.
My mother was a closet writer, throughout her life, she wrote what she called her “thoughtfuls”, spontaneous, often whimsical expressions of her daily life. She wrote Shrinking while waiting in the doctor’s office after the nurse had mistakenly measured her at 4’8” tall. A bit of gallows humor here.
Shrinking
I’m only 4 feet, 8 inches tall.
I seem to be going into the ground.
Pretty soon I’ll be SO little
I won’t be able to put a seat belt on in the car.Pretty soon only people with very good eyes
will be able to see me.
If I disappear completely,
will I still be there?
only invisible?
I need to buy some shorts,
so that I will have slacks in the future.
Will I fit under a gate,
and be able to get into the garden?
(maybe see Alice there)
Am I becoming
“one of the little people?
Do the little people
have fun?
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