Siphonophore
After Stephen Philbrick. They say the mysteries of the heavensAre nothing compared to the mysteries of the seasWhose leagues we cannot fathom,Whose depths we take for grantedUnderfoot, our terrestrial backyard….
House of Bourbon
(“Found” poem from about 1998; revised 2010.)
What if I don’t want to be a princess?
My precious face. My beautiful face.
It’s not all I have.
Alternatively, you might see me as just another
Angry Cinderella who leaves her shoe
The way you leave a footprint:
To prove that I was there.
(I was there. I was there. I was there.)
Like a record album
Or a child.
I left that ball. True.
I walked out. Also true.
Just know the shoe you found
Was not by clumsy mistake
Nor left as a tease
but as a statement.
And after the anger
Which will fade like the red of my lips
There will remain this
My footprint.
Wow, that’s really wonderful.
I can’t believe I haven’t been reading your blog!
(I have been writing, though. Misha is having more adventures.)
love,
Dorothy
Thanks, Dorothy! Can’t wait to read more about Misha!