We wore silk kimonos, twined roses in
our hair,
danced barefoot at dawn on the
dewdamp grass
as the river's morning mist haunted
the garden.
Porcelain dolls, mimics of ourselves,
watched us take tea in thimble cups
glowing blue beauty, like our veins,
against the light.
Our teacups now are squat and brown,
thick hands too clumsy for fragile
things.
Cardigan-layered against mild winds,
we worry about flooding from the
river.
There is ache and throb in our
danceless legs
and no-one now sees beauty in our
veins.
Come Sister, as the light fades from
our sky,
let us dress in silk kimonos,
twist vivid roses in our pewter hair.
---
Penny Blackburn lives in the North
East of England and writes poetry and short fiction. Her publications include
pieces online in Bangor Literary Journal, Atrium and Ink, Sweat & Tears and
in print with Paper Swans Press, Reader’s Digest and Maytree Press.
She is on Twitter and Facebook as
@penbee8 and on Instagram as penny.blackburn.5.
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