Crooked Pinkies
by Laurie Kolp
The man behind the mall’s post office kiosk
asks to see my pinky. I always wave to him
while wrapping up my daily walks, passing by
my final lap before I exit through
the West Hall entrance.
Quizzically, I show him my pinky
as if I were in grade school, flashing my
inny belly button to a boy.
See how it’s crooked? Just wait until
the baby’s born. I bet its pinky
will be crooked, or at least another
random quirk like curling tongues.
Mine a curlicue I roll right through my puckered lips.
It’s kind of creepy how our babies clone
the weirdest things, pick up mannerisms
you think your own, then eventually outgrow
you. Sometimes you might even wonder
if they’re really your kid. When that happens
remember your pinky finger.
Her fist rippling across my belly
as if to say just wait and see.
Gyroscope Review 23
!