She Was Like 1996


      She Was Like

She was like a flower slight

That has to grow in secret’s spell

To bloom. Is such an image right?

Is there such a flower? Well,

She was one alright, her light

In secret, undisturbed, Fertilized

By loneliness itself. Outside

Influence tried on for size

Proved far outsize; for her to bide

Her time in darkness’ peace, not being

Helped by hothouse heat, its fuel

A forced support, proved best for freeing

And expanding goodness’ rule,

Joy’s renewal.

She was like a fragile bird

Who sings its instinct song atop

The highest branch alone, unstirred

By staring, stirring mass. Bopping

Bird, creating son and word

For anyone who like to eavesdrop.

Beak aimed high, not for the mate-bird

Only, but for world and dewdrop,


Universe. Who can grow

Midst crowd, much noise and tv dinner?

Solitude and nature’s peepshow

Are the dynamo

For embryonic angels.


She Was Like 3.11.1996Pure Nakedness; Vaguely About Music;

Arlene Corwin

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