Poetry Friday

by

Turquoise

She was once an eleven year old girl
in a long-sleeved and turquoise t-shirt
from the children’s department.

And now she stands before me,
or rather she doesn’t stand before me at all,
she is just a disembodied voice coming to me through the telephone.

I might try to reconcile that voice
with the body of the girl
but the voice is that of a woman, a young woman.

A young intelligent and beautiful woman.
A young intelligent and beautuful woman who has travelled, who is travelling now.

I cannot remember when the voice stopped belonging to the girl and became that of the woman.

I know there is no one moment,
no one precise moment that exists for me to recall,
in which this change suddenly occurred.

I cannot remember how this change came to pass,
but I suppose it must have been a gradual shifting.

I find myself seeing the skins of all the ages between girl and woman
slipping off of her and meeting the floor without a sound.

And so she stands before me now.
Or rather she doesn’t stand before me at all.

And I myself surprisingly full of feeling about the whole thing.

~Darcy~

 

Visit Darcy’s blog:  http://darcyfication.wordpress.com

Category : Poetry
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