once, when i was in gradeschool
i did something terrible
something horribly against the rules
according to my father and wicked stepmother
(who has since mellowed like an 'australian fighting wine')

i was given the duty of pooper-scooping
our backyard while my stepmother
took my brother and sister shopping
my dad was at work, so i was alone

my best friend came over, i let her in through the back gate
she stood on the patio and we talked
while i laboured

my stepmother came home, but didn't announce
her return until after jodi had gone
i was to call my father at work when i was done,
she said
why? i asked
so smug, i think you know

trembling fingers dialed up radio shack,
the verdict passed down
30 days confinement to your room,
he said
you will leave your room only for meals, chores, and school
(even oj got a fair trial)

yet i accepted my punishment
for two weeks, i carried out the sentence,
a miserable child, speaking few words,
trudging around when i was allowed
out of my cell

halfway through my punishment,
my father spoke to me vaguely of
forgiveness and lifted the sentence
i got a reprieve
to this day, i wonder if he spoke of him forgiving me
...or me forgiving him

my siblings were never punished like me
so i still ask myself what it was about
me
that drove my parents, protectors, nurturers
to these disciplinary measures

me, a lonely girl, who was simply
scooping up shit.