Silent Confession

I was in my treehouse when I heard the shot

I climbed down, sat on the curb, and looked across

I had seen from on high what no child should

From high in a tree observing our neighbors

I was called to testify to what I’d observed

Me this tomboy, an adventurous girl

The DA approached me with a questioning tone

“You told the sheriff you were in that tree, alone.”

“We have no questions as to why you were up there

Although it is a strange place for a girl perch”

“I’m a tomboy,” I explained, “I have a treehouse at home

I am an only child I spend time there alone, observing the neighborhood.”

“The law would call you a peeping tom, that you’re spying on others without cause

But today is not about you and the law, we need to know what you saw.”

It’s not my fault I saw what I saw, it was hot outside with little ventilation

The doors were open and the windows were without curtains.

“Have you been in that house owned by the Reekers?

Have you sneaked and prowled around without them knowing?”

“No, my last time in their house was Halloween of 1955

I was five years old, dressed liked a cowgirl.”

“Can you identify the person who shot the gun?

Please point them out to the jury and judge.”

I looked over the courtroom and then where the woman sat

That small dumpy woman with garish red hair like bird nest on her head

Before I could point her out to the courtroom at large

The defense attorney jumped up and called out her objection.

The judge had the two attorneys approach the bench

With backs turned to me and the jury, they had a whisper session

Everyone returned to their seats in the courtroom,

The lawyers stood and the judge was seated.

“Your honor,” said the prosecutor, “I pass this witness”

“I have no more questions for her.” And the defense stood and agreed.

I was excused from the courtroom without any fanfare or fuss.

I moved up the aisle and out the large oak doors, my head held down ‘til I was in the hall.

I do not know what happened to Mrs. Reekers that day or when the trial was over.

I never spoke of it again, what I had said and what, or what I had done.

It was me that fateful day, that had picked up the gun and fired the shot.

I could have claimed I was defending Mrs. Reeker, but that was not true.

I killed Mr. Reeker for what he had done to their dog—an act of inhumane cruelty

No one else saw. Except for Mrs. Reeker, who I know would never tell.

I had done her a favor, she told me outright, having been at the end of that belt many times.

I don’t really care what people do to each other. Leave the animals be to not suffer.