Sitting like a queen
with red hair flying
above a heart-shaped tattoo,
she took in my sorrows
and flights of fancy,
impartial as a small stone
Buddha on her shelf.
She heard my trouble with alcohol
and jobs,
isolation of northern winters,
listening to the lake blowing across
my childhood,
understood my wish to disappear
in mandalas and wild dance.
We only hugged twice.
I will miss her in her long gowns,
sitting in her very tall chair,
offering solace where there was none
and the photos of two hands opening
in acceptance above her.
Carolyn Gregory’s poems have been published in American Poetry Review, Main Street Rag, Off the Coast, Cape Cod Review, Cutthroat, Borderlines: Texas and the Seattle Review. She was nominated twice for a Pushcart Prize and previously won a Massachusetts Cultural Council Award. Her two books were published in 2009 and 2015. Additionally, she has reviewed classical music and theatre over the past twenty years.
No comments:
Post a Comment