Losing My Tail

When I was in the third grade

the principal was allowing all classes

to bring their Halloween outfits

to school for a costume parade.

A prize would be given

for the best one.

Every wardrobe imaginable

was in the lineup.

We all walked around

the large playground in single file

like a caterpillar

that bunched up and then stretched.

We were all constantly

running into the back of each other.

We must have looked comical

to the parents and teachers.

Mom had made me a lion outfit

that covered me from head to ankle.

I had two ears and a three-foot tail,

that naturally dragged the ground.

My whiskers were glued to a mask.

As we slowly moved toward the judges

I would often feel my tail tugging

from someone standing on it.

I would hold it for a while

then get distracted and let it fall.

When it was finally my turn to roar,

I proudly prowled before the judges

as the king of the forest.

I didn't know that

this regal beast

had lost its tail

somewhere back in the jungle!

Once the one-ring circus concluded,

this lion king failed to take the prize

for best costume.

One of the teachers had announced

to everyone in attendance

if anyone was missing a tail.

She held it up,

waving it like a flag

for all to see.

Instantly, I looked behind me

and realized my tail was gone!

Instead of walking up to the podium

to claim my prize,

I went up to collect my tail.

She handed my tail to me

with a slight chuckle.

It was the first time...

and certainly not the last

that I had lost my tail

and had it handed to me!