Radha Pigtail followed Didi Pigtail:
a puppy dog shadow
pitter no patter she went.
Little Radha Pigtail - one legged she was.
As Didi Pigtail sat reading
cross legged at the door
and Radha Pigtail would shyly
watch – hidden in an envelope of curtains.
Earlier, Didi Pigtail had tried:
sharing her raggedy dolls
pointing out pictures;
fairies and Little Princes.
But Radha Pigtail would run away
blushing in her shyness,
a hesitant smile
frozen in silent alarm.
How did she run? You exclaim!
Oh tiny Radha Pigtail could run
in a hobbled lopsided stride
Her frock – with its little pencil buttons –
flapping: against her good leg
and her bad crutch.
Unnerved, Didi Pigtail would hurry away
fast and strong
Anything to get away from
that pitter with no patter.
One day Didi Pigtail,
hurried to the jamun tree
the promise of its dark inky fruit
stained her imagination a glorious purple.
Pitter patter her feet sang
against the ground
in urgent impatience.
Radha Pigtail caught her shadow flit by
and followed, as fast as she could
pitter, pitter, no patter.
She watched Didi Pigtail climb the tree nimbly
monkey-like and lithe,
toes curled around the trunk,
then hopping onto a branch up high
and clutching at the dark, swollen fruit.
She watched Didi Pigtail
sucking and chewing
her mouth puckering into purple astringency.
Didi Pigtail suddenly stopped
peered down and saw
Radha Pigtail looking very small indeed
far far below,
and Didi Pigtail flashed a triumphant grin
her teeth, a frightening indigo.
"You can't follow me up here", those teeth proclaimed.
And terrified, Radha Pigtail, bolted
All pitter, no patter.