“Have you done this before? ”
Turning her face,
blurring, learning
the burn,
of one
cold room
her folded arms
tales told
in the hold of
her knees, rocking
please, let this be
overuse, excused
absently waiting,
curled up with release
relief, of stinging
disbelief, fears
strangle, she hears
the line, written
finely, finally
able to table,
remove, disable,
the motion
of her choice,
weak, in her strength
at length, strong
in the wrongs
of her peace,
she stands,
commands
no longer damned.
“This is a new day.”
© 07/07/09
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem