IN THE HEYDAYS OF HIS EYES
(taut jeans dancing)

An Anthology of Poetry about Being Young and Growing Up
 
 
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THE DIRTY-BILLED FREEZE FOOTY

Judith Hemschemeyer

Remember that Saturday morning Mother forgot the word gull? We were all awake but still in bed and she called out, "Hey kids! What's the name of that bird that eats garbage and stands around in cold water on the beach?" And you, the quick one, the youngest daughter piped right back: "A dirty-billed freeze footy!" And she laughed till she was weak, until it hurt her. And you had done it: reduced our queen to warm and helpless rubble. And the rest of the day, baking or cleaning or washing our hair until it squeaked, whenever she caught sight of you it would start all over again.

 
 
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