Her NY self
fortuitous in business
aggressive
driven
Mars in Capicorn
skin like leather
like scaled armor
Now softening
There is no rest
in the great white North East
Ivy League Society
Wasps from Northern Europe
Academia
intellectual arrogance
Pilgrims who
pulled up their boot straps
demanding that you do too
or it means that God is not for you
but against you
but he is for them
She was racing against winter
below zero temeratures
and black ice
sooty snow
encounters with unfriendly faces
frozen features harsh words
competing with others in the race
fear and anger
crazy drivers
turnpike turmoil
concrete city scapes
abhorrant to nature
trying to be
some other
something
Yet she competes for survival
in a world she cannot Not
but does not belong to
Her feet hover over
her body floats above
rootless
I don’t ask
who needs affection
cause it’s me
Migrates further North
Dysphoria beneath ebullience
hidden for years
away from Manhattan
under warm coats
under down
under astringent skies
the white snow
the shoveling out
the quaint country houses
under helping others
after giving over
even the bone marrow
that runs in her psyche
this is not her
Curls of smoke in
her smoke screen
rise and part
exposing the rudiments
of vestigial humaness
divulge the true one in the mirror
standing there
looking back at me
there are truths
and myths qualifying
that grow roots from the bottom of her feet
Taking hold now in who she really is
an amalgam of memories
adroit with clay and soil
trees with oranges
plants with flowers
children and pets
rays of sun
lapping salted waves
needs and wants
no more false accolades
Delivered, her subterranean self
steps from the mirror
layers of cloth heap
on the floor
Not quite knowing
what or how to
how to operate
how to navigate
this newly re-inhabited self
recycled complete with roots and blood
through years of mirrors reflecting who she was
and is becoming again now
who she really is
She is.
Alexandra Morgan – December 2, 2019
Thursday Central 