a small girl of six or seven
sits between church pews on a pink
blanket, coloring a stegosaurus
that doesn’t know it’s going to die
before st. paul preaches
that female dinosaurs keep silent
anyway, before the pastor’s voice
swarms like a fire & the brethren
hold on tight to godyahwehetcetera
until later, when they all point to
their books as father debates asteroids
with the men & what is truth?
coffee in the backroom bubbles &
mother lets go of her offerings—
homemade sprout sandwiches
with triangular cuts, the girl sprints
down the hall until her stockings
tear, stop running stop everything
–
Rebecca O’Bern has work published in Notre Dame Review, Barely South Review, South 85 Journal, Connecticut Review, Storm Cellar, Buddhist Poetry Review, and elsewhere. Other interests include photography and science fiction. She’s a recipient of the Leslie Leeds Poetry Prize and co-edits Mud Season Review.