This girl is determined to crack
her father’s code, determined
to nail down the meaning
of love.
Mama has been dead ever since I was born.
I only know her picture, downstairs. I saw
you looking at it yesterday.
I do have one way of keeping her quiet.
I pour water on her. I feel mean
when I do it.
Yes, I am the Quiet Queen.
Do you know why? Because
quiet is the most creative way
of being.
This conversation
is missing your voice.
_____________________
this poem is a collage experiment.
No comments:
Post a Comment