Ambivalence: A Memory
Mother's gone to town. The men out haying.
Charlie was told to check from the cook shack.
"She's the big sister," mother said as she gave
her nine-year old a pat on the head.
After the flames climb the kitchen curtain,
spread to the roof, the men come from the field
shouting at me, "Run, girl, run to the creek,
take your sister, 'case the gas tank goes.
I hold her close, bellies half in water,
faces in moss and mud bank,
me and baby sister,
I am proud to have saved her.
For years, though, I could have sworn
I started the fire.
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