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Daughter of the Streets
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She has no
light but that
of effervescent clouds.
She has her days
in doorways, sleeping
on abandoned stairs,
folding her arms
in laughter.
She has a man in her mind,
but cannot remember his
name, cannot bear the cold
stares of animals who watch
from distant trees.
She has many dimensions
in her bones and in her pain,
has not reached her final year
though time has lost its pace
in her blood, though fire and milk
leave her with equal indifference,
and her memory is an ancient tongue
in need of translation.
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© 1992 by Allison Grayhurst
amazon.com/author/allisongrayhurst
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First published in “Raven Cage, Issue 26” September 2018
https://drive.google.com/file/d/1Hdv93t42aRcr5RMMyKCysJ3Fi08KwDgX/view
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You can listen to the poem by clicking below:
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