“I write because I am alone and move through the world alone. No
one will know what has passed through me... I write because there
are stories that people have forgotten to tell, because I am a
woman trying to stand up in my life... I write out of hurt and how
to make hurt okay; how to make myself strong and come home,
and it may be the only real home I'll ever have.” Natalie Goldberg.
image Edith Voggegut
The lines gives a subtle nod to her age
her laughter makes you look back
flushed slightly red,
cheeks glow, while those lips
often speak inappropriately.
expressive, some would say
are penciled on, in places.
Still lithe and vibrant
boldly confident as she moves down the street
always aware of eyes following
that too short skirt,
those clicking heels.
She exudes that quality you just can't place,
momentarily, just out of your reach
a trace of the most luscious scent, a whisper,
a top note caught on the breeze.
Look inside and the story changes,
a vintage rag-bag of emotions
vie for dominance,
confidence wanes to shyness,
feline turns to a plain gray mouse.
Time makes plates spin out of control
as she dashes to catch moments,
to etch them on her heart
before they get forgotten.
For Magpie Tales poets go here. also for day 11 of a creative writing course.