Sonnet 13; or, My First Period

by Fliss

The peeling garden gate was slightly stiff,
  like me, I thought, arthritic at thirteen.
I made towards the sheds and caught a whiff
  of rabbit piss and shit I had to clean.
The guineas needed mucking out as well;
  I placed their carry-case inside the hutch.
They trotted in, dear Goldilocks and Belle;
  I stroked their hair; they chuckled at my touch.
The second task was tending Lady Winch,
  the rabbit, dark and often in distress;
I crouched, the effort causing me to flinch
  and cramp, then spot some blood upon my dress;
"My period!" I gasped. And Lady leapt,
escaped across the fields. I stood and wept.


MyNAh_27's picture
Fliss A very important life event has been depicted with incredible accuracy, haunting image portrayals and all very cleverly placed in a wider ecological setting. Wishing you the very best M

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Fliss's picture
Thanks, M! This is another one that was a lot of fun to write. I think there's so much scope for writing about puberty, in all its messy and glorious forms. Wishing the very best to you in return :-)

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