horizon

I touched my hand toward the horizon,
unfolding a lark from the sky.
Stepping back,
barefoot, lush and freed...

I learned
not all of me is heavenbound.

unfinished...

Mama told me I'd be a pearl
soon enough...

I've stayed coiled in my shell,
been washed up on shore
to bask in the sunlight
content
sloshing about
drifting...

until I became the ultimate shell of a woman
submitting to the accepted paradigm-
the kind of woman
who orders everything by catalogue
the kind of woman
people haven't seen face to face in years
all they ever get is my small pale hand
drawing back the curtains-
middle finger to the world
in my little washed up dreams

before they land

I look back at the measured seams,
bantam buttons,
tidy patten shoes...
I can never fit back into that girl,
that lifetime, again.
Seeds falling from my hand
bloom before they land.




my mojo disappeared with that last round of thunder... damn. another unfinished thought...oh well. no point forcing it. until we meet again....