Alc Harris

Rookie (England)

She Is Me - Poem by Alc Harris

and the hum of busy stitches
drift through memories
on faded photographs.
a gentle hand
that turns a crackling recording
of gospel tunes
and electric guitars,
she sits reading
romance and heroes
while romance evades her sight
and heroes only fall
hiding her failings in the small oven
where memories were cooked
and tea leaves danced
in the ochre hue
of yesterdays travels,
she danced in hallways
aiming to please
a jeering crowd,
all except one
who took the gifts
and wrapped them in cobwebs
to open in secret
pressing the glistening silver
into small palms
she recited psalms
in anxious tones.
the softest of kisses
could not detract
from the perfect waves
of red
that adorned a head
so distant
so conformed
to ideals
of reform
and so she will dance
burn incense
of sandalwood
to rid the blight
of idealist sight

for these three
are she
and she is they
in some small way

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Poem Submitted: Saturday, November 4, 2006

Poem Edited: Tuesday, November 2, 2010

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