Hand-me-downs are better,
I think, than the stiff of new leather
or the cold crisp of a blouse hung primly.
I drape my body in the old wears
of my mother, the thin silk skirts discarded
at a thrift shop door
the stuffed-toe shoes from my aunt’s closet.
I am swaddled in their past and sometimes
their present if we agree to share.
Hands like tiny stars have clung to this sweater’s sleeves
a classroom of chalkboard imagination stitched into the yarn.
These shoes, shiny black, toes squeezed so they all point north
stomped across marble courthouse floors, making a case for justice
and mercy and the practicality of stiletto heels.
These earrings, drizzling chains of gold chiming
quietly in my hair
turned my grandmother’s ears into chandeliers and dazzled
all the men in nearby candlelight.
I am a living tapestry of beautiful women.
Their warmth hums in my seams.
This is gentle and beautiful. It is always good to see you expressing your full range.
I especially like “toes squeezed so they all point north” … the image of the moral compass, reinforced by the lines that follow.
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Thank you kindly. I remembered you when writing that actually, because of our previous discussion on making a series of some sort with shoes as a common thread.
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I remember that. This fits perfectly into that series, on several levels.
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I really like this and I am not sure why, its softness perhaps and the better/leather/mother sounds are somehow very satisfying
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I’m glad you enjoyed it! Thank you for taking a moment to read and comment.
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beautifully written, very delicately put, I felt as though I had to whisper my own thoughts as I read it lest I disturbed the intricacy of the woven word and watch as your words dematerialised before my very eyes.
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This is a lovely compliment, thank you! It makes my heart happy you found it so. Have a good day sir, wherever you are.
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This moves me in wonderful ways. I remember how I felt as a teenager borrowing Grandma’s high heels for church. It never occurred to me to have such a beautiful Vision of that memory. Thank you.
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Thank you for sharing with me how the poem moved you- that is wonderful to know, and I hope that memory and other ones just as beautiful remain close.
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Wow. Work of wonder… World of women… The wonder of wonders.
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