P O E T # 4 : P A T R I C I A   G   R O U R K E
Fallow Poet

Crossing the threshold,
she no longer is
what she used to be,
hardly recognizes
her face in the mirror.
Opening her mouth,
jumbled words fall out,
needing new language
to navigate the new
landscape of her life.
For now, she has only
letters, symbols, gestures--
but soon, soon, the mine
of her heart will open
and diamond words
will dazzle from her lips.

H.A.K.T.U.P.! #7 05-2000

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