Don't Mess With Electricity: a Shocking Discovery Poem About a Lesson Learned
The hall was empty;
no one about.
I was a child;
small, curious.
In my hand,
a small wire, bent
(Mother used them
in her hair.)
in the wall; on the wall--
Something
familiar,
yet strange.
Two slots
above two more;
Mysterious, it
made things whirr.
In my mind, I
saw--cords, prongs
(did not know what they were)
But I knew: you
put them together
with the slots.
Like magic,
motors roared.
Slowly, I reached,
made the connection.
A wild scream, screeching,
left my mouth;
it flew through the house.
Such a feeling of fire!
Tingling, trembling!
Mother comes running.
Safety
in her arms.
*********************************
Years later,
I'm asked:
"Please plug this in."
I run away,
afraid.
© 2010 Liz Elias