Poem

The Daughter

I made mine just the same as you made yours
and mine turned out the same as yours did

I began making mine before I knew better
when what I wanted was what you wanted

In the end I threw away so many of the
obsolete arts and crafts you taught me

I start again when I am many years older
many years behind me and perhaps lost

This time I make mine in the shape of myself
calling it some new kind of womanhood

someone balancing on new feet, I stand
and start again, it is late but not too late

Advertisement
Standard

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s