The women in her life
were dark-eyed;
kept pots of soup on the burner
for unexpected guests,
laughed at jokes no one else understood.
They shopped at thrift stores
choosing clothes for their color, texture
or, like their lovers,
for their possibilities.
The women in her life
were adopted aunties, mostly childless.
They grew stronger with age.
At night the wind skittered
out their open windows
carrying laughter
and hope
to the women without dreams.
were dark-eyed;
kept pots of soup on the burner
for unexpected guests,
laughed at jokes no one else understood.
They shopped at thrift stores
choosing clothes for their color, texture
or, like their lovers,
for their possibilities.
The women in her life
were adopted aunties, mostly childless.
They grew stronger with age.
At night the wind skittered
out their open windows
carrying laughter
and hope
to the women without dreams.
2 comments:
Wow! Talk about images. And speaking of story writing! I'll edit your book when you edit mine....;-)
I gotta say, you are so motivating, both in example, and in your kind comments. I would like to self-publish a small collection of poetry sometime in the next couple of years. And I'd feel very privileged if you would work with me on that. Assuming that you'll have time between your own promotional tours, interviews, etc.
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