Lucy Baby I

I.
I always found it strange
The things you remember
When you’re a child.

My parents worked
When I was little,

And I remember sneaking away
From my usual babysitter.

I sat on the Reading Rug
In the library,
And listened to the frantic sitter
Running
And calling my name
Outside the big double doors.

Tracing those characters
On the rug with my finger.
Listening.
I was proud,
I guess.

Proud I could be so calm.
I’ve always been that way,
Calm and quiet.

Even after
I found out
About my baby.