Coming of Age
In the end, mother,
I crawled out of your door like I crawled out of your womb
with a fire in my belly; hungry, angry, alone.
Displaced, desperate for the unknown.
Wailing into the morning light, I flailed,
then, I didn’t.
Suckling on the sun, I looked at the world with kitten eyes.
Then, I made the world look back at me.
On your front porch,
on a county road in Indiana,
on God's command.
I made my way out of
my Coming of Age
with the past in my pocket
and
now in my hand.
A brave child. I was eighteen.
Megan Bell is privileged to have served Fort Wayne, Indiana as a reference librarian for the past decade. When she is not working, she spends time with her husband and two children. They enjoy the outdoors – riding bikes, hiking, and swimming. She digs all 70s singer/songwriter music, any cat she meets, and she saves all her extra pennies for travel.