Sue by Terri Kirby Erickson

Her name was Sue and everything about this girl
was delicate and pale, like she was more a reflection
of a child than an actual person. Her hair

was whiteish-blonde, her skin the color of skim milk.
Her favorite dress was made of some diaphanous
blue material that sparkled in the sun at recess,

but I don’t recall her ever playing games, jumping
rope or talking to her classmates. The few times
when I heard Sue speak, her voice was high-pitched

and words tumbled over her lavender lips like they
were trying to escape. Even our teacher—who
regularly beat children’s palms with wooden rulers,

screamed and ranted at kids in our first-grade class
until her boney chest turned red with fury—
was careful of Sue, whose tiny white hands would

have born marks for weeks from the slightest rap
of a ruler. Besides, Sue never misbehaved. She just
sat in her seat, looking as fragile as mouthblown glass.



Terri Kirby Erickson is the author of eight collections of poetry, including The Light That Follows Us Home, which will be released by Press 53 in the fall. Her work has been widely published and has won numerous awards, including the Joy Harjo Poetry Prize and International Book Award for Poetry.