To the woman with the pendulating breasts:
A stony expression fixed on the blinking walk signal
flashing LED bright against the watercolors of post-deluge dawn,
a weathered, strong knuckle grip anchored to a cardboard coffee
cup of recycled materials no doubt somewhat less terrible for the earth
as far as disposable drinking vessels go,
faded baseball cap shoved tight down over tin hair,
metal-stubborn curling out sideways in a relentless fight for flight,
bouncing slightly with each step,
as your breasts swing free, long with the care
of children, almost certainly, and lovers, and wear, and
gravity and lived age, the thin cotton of your tanktop an ephemeral barrier against the heat of july and the gaze
Thank you, because I dreamt of my mother and woke up missing her,
(oddly or not) that I could see her solidly
marching along a sidewalk, bra-less and brazen.
july 2014, copyright Sarah Hirsch
A blog of mostly poems, some prose. Recent works will be added to the top, and older pieces are backdated. Please write me a note if you have any questions, etc!
All works are original and copyright Sarah Hirsch, 2017. Please contact me directly if you would like permission to use any images or words. Thank you!
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