Lunchtime, my story time, my fair and precious story time.
Tales of magnificent heroes slaying the cruel cowboys with their loud, obnoxious guns.
The girl with feathers in her hair saying she's an old soul.
This wise girl, this fun girl- she told me stories of her lives.
Of her brave husbands and her loyal friends,
Of her own adventures deep in the woods.
She says she saw a dragon once- a long, long time ago.
"But they're all extinct now," says she, "for I slew the very last one."
I thought she had woven those wonderful stories just for me,
But that third-grader was just plain crazy…