I stood up proud. Nervous.
Tadpole
I put some water in a bowl
In this I put a tadpole
He squirmed and squiggled
But couldn’t get out
So all he did was swim about
He dropped his tail behind a log
And turned himself
Into a frog.
I glanced up to stifled giggles. Ok, I thought.
They like it but it isn’t supposed to be that funny.
A kid from the back row pointed toward my knees.
Hot blood scorched my cheeks.
The belt I tied so tightly around my way too big hand me down skirt
left a huge gap at my waist, exposing my underwear and bare thighs.
I’ve feared public speaking ever since.
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