THE REAL REASON FOR MY DISAPPEARANCE

"Go home, child"						
my mother says, closing the gate.			
"Go back to your people."  She goes			
into the house, pulls down the shades.			
I stand in the sensible shoes				
she bought for me.						
I stand in the dusk						
on the sidewalk.						

I remember							
playing outside in the evening-				
"Kick the can."  I didn't know				
what to do after the can					
was kicked, but everyone laughed
and ran, so I did too-quick shadows
moving through shadows.						

There, by the alley
a man stood, a stranger.
Not even looking at me
he took my hand and walked away.
We walked fast.
He was in a hurry.

It was a long time, past
Halloween, Christmas, Valentine's day,
my birthday.  Then we found out
it was a mistake.
He didn't need a girl
after all.

But somehow
I must have come
to look like him.  My mother,
behind these shades,
doesn't know me.

I whisper my name
and it slips away
falling among leaves and paper 			
in the gutter.  I look at
my fingers.  They are transparent
and fading.  My plastic bracelet
falls to the ground,
my socks wrinkle.

Tomorrow my mother
will find on the sidewalk
a yellow dress
and a pair of sensible shoes.

		Lucille Murphy