As a child, having learned that the dot over the lowercase i
held identity apart from the vertical stroke
she raised her hand intrigued
to ask for the name of the dot that rests below a question mark
only to be informed
in a tone that brooked no argument
A lifetime of acceptance followed
dot marks the end of the sentence
rests below uncertainty
bringing inquiry to close
Now she walks
beneath stony misplaced sun
caught off guard and far from home
worms dessicate before the onslaught
curling to imploration
She bends to gather their familiar shape
hooks lost hopes over her fingers
curve of entreaty
haunted by the answer to a question she does not know how to ask
she goes on
11 thoughts on “Tittle goes here”
*sigh* Absolutely loving this one, too.
You make me smile.
Love love love this one.
And I love that you came to read and paused to say hello.
Always reading. Usually just quiet like.
Sending smiles at you.
“… curling to imploration…”
I have seen the worms this way.
There position familiar. I’m reminded of times I have been curled. Long ago.
Ah, your words. I love them.
Their. Darn it.
I love when someone else has seen what I have seen in the way I’ve seen it.
Thank you for that, Renee.
I think this one is my favorite.
Best compliment ever except for the fact that I am never going to be able to post another poem.
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