Listen to this poem using the player above.
pumpkin
she’s almost at the end of the poem
when she slips and says
“punkin”
just like that, all those careful years
peel away, she stands
in a flower-print dress her mother made
reading in front of the class
stumbling over the hard words
in her accent the kids made fun of
she spent years silencing that voice
replacing it with the calm, assured
sophistication that befits a woman of means
she catches herself รขโฌโ puts the “p” where it belongs
but it’s too late, everyone has seen
the scared girl behind the sophisticate
the sweat-soaked dress clinging to her past
the voice she cannot silence
pouring from her mouth
i’m starting to read blogs again. at least today. ๐
i think i commented on this one when you linked it up to facebook. reading it again, still enjoying how much is revealed in that little slip of language.
Thanks, Carolee. I’m glad you’re here.