Doll Legs
I had, you said, little doll legs,
and you, curved ankled,
which meant, though it rankled,
that you would always be the woman
and me, the child.
Tonight, the sky is striated with clouds
that look like scars
or maybe mouths, made to stay straight
rather than curve down, clown frown–
that kind of cry
sometimes found
in sky.
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A poem of sorts–you can call it a draft–for Margaret Bednar’s referential “Play it Again Sam” prompt on with Real Toads, based in my case, on Kerry O’Connor’s prompt about the great South African poet, Ingrid Junkar.
The above pic is of Betty Grable, who supposedly had “curved ankle” legs. You will note them. Photo from flicker–no copyright infringement intended.
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