Quarrel

You know it isn't fair, she said to me,
With pouty lips and big innocent eyes,
And yes, she scolded me, it's a surprise.
I must have smiled too gently, patiently,
Because she whacked me on the arm. You see,
She told me, pointing my way, was that wise?
Did you just want to know if that one flies,
Or were you thinking I'd sit on your knee?

I answered, If you sat here, quarrelling
The way you do, I'd spank your big behind.
There was a silence then, the nasty kind,
The kind that seems to slap your ears and ring
For weeks and weeks, sometimes until next spring.
Oh? Big? she asked. I said, I've changed my mind.