STORY TIME -- II

Trip Trap
    Trip Trap
        Trip Trap

It's the three Billy Goats Gruff
trotting once again
over that plank bridge
that is roof to the home
of that wicked, wicked troll.

And it is my father's voice
roaring once again:
"Who's that trip-trapping
across my bridge?"

And it is one of the three
Billys who answer:
"It is I, the first
Billy Goat Gruff" (or the second
or the third).

And it is I, the four-year-old
who, shivering with dread and
delight, sits perched on my father's
lap on the big chair next
to the front door.

And thirty years later,
that four-year-old is the father,
telling to his daughter,
the once-again tale of
goats gruff and
wicked, wicked troll.