Lill Pluta

In the days when LBJ was president and the nice fella at Piggly Wiggly weighed and bagged your produce, there was a little girl with straw colored hair. Not the real clean straw, you know, but the stuff leftover from last year. She lived in a small brick house with a big backyard where her daddy grew onions and corn and something really icky called swiss chard. Her prize possession was a pair of pristine white rubber rain boots which she could almost get on and off herself. The best days were rainy days, when the red clay street in front of the house turned into a sticky, oozy wonderland. The bits of clay in the water swirled and wiggled into patterns, like a little muddy Milky Way right there at the end of her driveway.

Now, on the other side of the mud was a school house. It was brick too, with a dirt parking lot and a bunch of teachers who couldn't decide which was the right way to teach a young child cursive. So the girl got confused, and brought home C's in penmanship. And her mother sat her down and made her copy stuff from books onto long pads of yellow lined paper. This whole copying business didn't sit well with the girl, so she began making up her own stories. She was eager to learn each new capital letter in script, and longed for the day she would learn to make a "Z." Then she could write about Zillian, a beautiful girl, her alter ego, her imaginary twin.

I'm not sure what happened to Zillian, but the street was paved, and the parking lot was paved, and the girl grew up. Now she is me. And I don't have white rubber rain boots anymore, but I love to dip my toes in puddles. And I can write a pretty snazzy 'Z."

ME DEFINED

• I'm a poet and a writer,
• a dreamer, a fighter,
• a person who always seeks more.
• I'm wonky and freaky, a little bit sneaky;
• I've never been labeled a bore.
• (Well there was that one time)
• I rhyme and I dont;
• I will and I wont.
• My spirit is strong and soars free.
• I've been lots of things.
• I've had roots; Ive had wings,
• but I always wind up being me.