after five children
I have had to relearn how to work this body
these hips no longer move like they used too
these days it's like I am always stuck in first gear
these cylinders no longer fire
these hips no longer move with the rhythm
of the wild woman that I used to be
these days,
even after all of the maintenance
the wheels are still falling off.
couldn't but remember this other poem about hips, by Lucille Clifton:
ReplyDeleteThese hips are big hips.
they need space to
move around in.
they don't fit into little
petty places. these hips
are free hips.
they don't like to be held back.
these hips have never been enslaved,
they go where they want to go
they do what they want to do.
these hips are mighty hips.
these hips are magic hips.
i have known them
to put a spell on a man and
spin him like a top
Thank you Beatrice great poem... I lone these hips are mighty hips, these hips are magic hips:-).xxx
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