Once in a while I write a poem. Warming up for National Poetry month — April — here’s one.

Pincushion Woman

Once upon a time,
way back when the woman was a little girl
(WAY back)
she swallowed a pin.

In trouble
she feared
if she told a soul
So she didn’t.

And the pin just stayed there,
somewhere inside. Until

One day
she leaned to drink from a fountain
or to tie her shoes or pick up a penny
(It’s been so long I can’t quite remember)
and the pin came back out of her mouth.

The end.

Unless

Just to see what happens
you swallow it again.

The pin begins
to work its way around within
sometimes it hurts a little
sometimes it hurts not at all
sometimes it tickles
sometimes it’s so sharp

you worry
what’ll happen
when it comes back out of your mouth