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GIRL FRIEND POEM #3
She was white and flown
as a kleenex turning into a swan.
I lifted her veil; the face disappeared.
As if I had exposed some film
to sun. Twirling our skirts.
Laughing until the clouds sopped up
the light. And the peaches fell down around us.
for Sharon
(C. D. Wright)
Sunday, February 5
After I read the first two remarkable lines, I turned away to see who wrote this poem. And of course, it was C.D. Wright. I went on to read the rest of this poem, took a breath, then mused, this is art, and to label it a poem just doesn't seem to give it justice, to make it bigger and more important for the world to see. But too few are reading to "see." I did, though. I read it. And so did you Robin. Thanks.
“While fishing, we throw them back until one early morning we set our hook and pull up a whopper. Now that's what they call a keeper. No supper for this one. No sir. Gonna stuff and mount this on the wall and admire at the thing to know that while I had no part in creating such a thing, I can sure admire it until the day I die.” Said someone long forgotten who left this note on the wall right beneath the whopper.