And the trees don’t care what they see, said
The father to his daughter, explaining why
People hide in the woods when they’re shy.
“I’m not,” replied his daughter. “But I’ve got
To get over my stage fright.” Then she drew
Open the drawer in the end table under
The motel room lamp. “What is this book?
Holly Bibble? Did someone forget it here?”
Her father thought about how well he knew
That book and the reason for leaving it
In every possible motel room in America
By the time he was her age. Better to go
Into the last remaining woods and shyly hide.
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