Turning curls
A poem is given to you
And passed on
What good is it to keep on beating the rock
senseless
again and again we beat our fists against it
wondering whether humans and ants
and how far we have come
only to come to this
following the scent trail of the other
going where
one by thousands crowding pushing
wondering wondering about the day
how much do we understand of that grim-faced stranger?
grim now, but so soft
when she crosses the threshold her heart loosens
she finds her voice and feels beautiful
she creates
objects spun and made real
she puts voice to anger, kicks the door because she feels like it
she wears all her good clothes, the high heels and lace
makes herself a cup of tea and sits down
like a mouse with a grand plan
to save or rule world

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s