Infinity - Poem by Pat Huyett
I made more sense of sideways eights,
looping inward, ever curling-
than math teachers baffling me with
graphs, divisions, and ellipses.
Better yet, I found it myself
sneaking to my parents'
room where I explored the vanity:
heirloom hankies starched for show,
dimestore talc in an oval tin,
a music box I wound to play
the Anniversary Waltz (its powder
well hiding a Chesterfield butt) ,
green crystal earrings with screw backs,
a tiny bottle of Tabu,
my brother brought back from Paris,
rouge in a brass disk, curious
hardware of garters and girdle,
And what the the 3rd grade reader called
looking glasses-the gilt hand
mirror with its matching brush,
the wide wall mirror, surveying my
snooping, its wood frame carved to look
like a curtain.
Holding one and
facing the other, green crystal,
Tabu, on either ear, my 8 year old
image grinned, bounced back,
through two glasses, on and on and on....
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