My horoscope said, ‘Today
there will be an intense
conversation. You must
express your views.’
I waited all day. Only
the bland and average,
the practical, necessary,
Then, that night, on TV,
the documentary — Australia
and the war in Vietnam. ‘Oh look,
I’m there!’ I said, pointing.
But it was only a glimpse, just a few
of the women from Save Our Sons.
‘They didn’t show me,’ I said,
‘But I was there that day.’
‘What were you doing there?’
I stared at him. ‘I was holding up
a placard. I was standing
with the others. I was protesting.
‘I remember, I was about eight months
pregnant.’ ‘Oh, you silly thing,’
he said indulgently. Then
our conversation became intense.
April PAD Challenge #12: ‘Something ...’
Also submitted for Poets United's Poetry Pantry #97
Some of these poems are autobiographical, some are entirely fictional, and some are a mixture of both. The intention is art rather than self-expression. I don't allow factual details to get in the way of poetry! (I do seek emotional truth.) They are works in progress, and may be subject to revision without notice. Completed versions appear in my books. Nevertheless copyright applies to all texts found here. Copyright also applies to almost all photos posted here, most of which are my own, though a few are licensed under Creative Commons.
Thank you for your comments. I read and appreciate them all, and reply here to specific points that seem to need it — or as I have the leisure. Otherwise I reciprocate by reading and commenting on your posts as much as possible.