She had a penchant for excitement but discretion was a must,
for how her family worried and how her family fussed—
fingers tearing hair and both palms shielding eyes.
Was bungee-jumping safe? Did she think sky-diving wise?
They’d have her clipping coupons and baking cherry pies,
so she only did her favorite things shrouded in disguise.
A person in a chicken costume jumping from a plane
might have been seeking notice, might have seemed inane
if the chicken ever took off her feathers or her mask.
If she ever answered the questions they might ask.
But she only shed her feathers once safely in her home,
arranging them with fingers and a broad-toothed comb.
Snow-boarding in her fox costume, she knew they’d never know
how she banged up her left elbow, fractured her little toe.
She’d said it was at tennis—that family-sanctioned sport,
as they happily imagined her on golf course or on court.
They found other sport unseemly, inappropriate at best
when associated with their spotless family crest.
Thus did she live her life according to her nature
while never bringing shame to her family nomenclature!