Introvert

High on a mountain or deep in the sea,

Bury the creature I call me.

Gnawing, worrying, as a dog at a bone,

I have never been able to leave her alone.

Sniffed, bitten, pulled and torn,

Harried,.driven, from the day she was born,

Pity the creature with hunted eyes,

Distraught, cornered. When she dies,

Write as her only epitaph,

"Here is one I never heard laugh."

Janet Piper