Thursday, November 15, 2007

boxed herstory

silver spoon

husband. men. love. lovers.
waiting for the hot summer
cool long necked beers
a sandy bar with river sliding
green and sliver stripes slapping
slipping toward the sea

July; I am sorting
old letters and photographs
journals and notebooks, era by era
picking up an oblong box
fits nicely in my hand, quality cardboard
lifing the lid to find, neatly folded
in the beige tissue, a shiney
sleekly modern 1967
silver spoon

wrapped and put away for the day
when I would walk up an aisle
toward the one who held happiness
lust joy adventure and equality
and the five babies I'd already named
walking back down that aisle
given away, a married woman

but what about the river?
wrapped and rolling in tanned arms
is he lover husband love
slides green and sparkling toward the sea
the box holds the spoon, tarnishing
light glints silver through the oxidation
it is time to liberate
this virgin silverware

husbands. men. loves. lovers.
the silver is my hair, the laugh in my throat
laying down the spoon next to a bowl
steaming peaches, bubbling blueberry cobbler
creme fraishe melting, pooling fragrant
sitting across from him, love
and watch his summer brown hand

pick up the spoon


1 comment:

Gail Jonas said...

Worth musing...worth pondering. For a "cut to the chase" kind of gal, I really like your poems.

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