‘kindergarten’ from German: literally ‘children’s garden.’
that day in kindergarten we were drawing animals.
not everyone got picked but I did. draw a wolf
teacher said. I drew a wolf walking on his hind legs.
he was a fine wolf, with a deep voice, he could sing
opera. I held my crayon up, called my teacher over.
she said my wolf wasn’t right. it should not walk
upright. she took my paper away and said john would
now draw a wolf. I’m wrong I said to myself. I saw
my friend draw a pink cow. she’s wrong I knew.
I hadn’t known until that day in kindergarten.
Tricia Marcella Cimera is a Midwestern poet with a worldview. Look for her work in these diverse places (some forthcoming): Anti-Heroin Chic, Buddhist Poetry Review, The Ekphrastic Review, Foliate Oak, Failed Haiku, I Am Not A Silent Poet, Mad Swirl, Silver Birch Press, Wild Plum and elsewhere. She has two micro collections, THE SEA AND A RIVER and BOXBOROUGH POEMS, on the Origami Poems Project website. Tricia believes there’s no place like her own backyard and has traveled the world (including Graceland). She lives with her husband and family of animals in Illinois / in a town called St. Charles / by a river named Fox. A Poetry Box is in her front yard.