...quiet, about a lot of things...

On a list Poem for class. And just to vent..let me say that this session is different than the last, which I enjoyed very much. This one has a heady..I have my Masters feel to it... and I submitted a poem last week that had the F word in it..twice...and this week I submitted the poem about Marilyn and the Kennedy brothers. No one comments much on my stuff..Oh well. The purpose is to write, right?

So on to the list poem...

WHAT A DAUGHTER LEAVES BEHIND

I've kept the door closed, because
I am good at closing doors. A room

is not empty, if one does not enter.
My hand trembles at the knob. A knob

I have always hated. Note to self.
Replace all knobs in the house. The

house that holds one less. A daughter
who's walls are seafoam green,two different

shades, just hues apart. Subtle yet easily
articulated. These walls she left behind

hold pictures of butterfly winged alphabets
and towers, both Eiffel and Empire State.

Above me, hangs a crystal chandelier with one
bulb burnt. On the desk, stands a lamp

adorned with mardi gras beads, fastened
firm by a clothes pin, holding a memory I

did not witness. She's left behind clothes
in the closet which I picked for her, that

no longer suit the occasion.There's a guitar
she did not learn to play, and an antique ice

cream parlour chair, that I failed to re-cover.
I had promised, so she wrapped the cushion in

fabric and waited. Here is the doll from Africa
and the masks in Venetian red and kitten fur black.

Theses are the things.I can bear them all. It is the dust,
made from her skin that I can not bear. I could not

sweep it away. No more than she could part with those
roses,dried darker,but still from a boy she did not love.

wlf 10:26