Needlepoint and Other Secrets

She liked drinking beer

and she loved to swear.

She could be nasty to strangers

when she’d had a few too many.

Hell, she could be nasty to her friends

when she’d had a few too many.

She liked staying up late and would party with the boys

and she wasn’t above peeing in the woods.

She never asked for help with anything

and she wanted everyone to know she was tough.

 

After not seeing her around for a couple of days

I stopped by her apartment one morning

with a couple cups of coffee.

She reluctantly opened the door and let me in.

I could see she had been crying

and there was a half-finished needlepoint on the kitchen table.

There were several other completed pieces

on a chair next to the table.

“Did you make these?” I asked.

“Yes,” she replied “and if you tell anyone I will kill you.”