I gave a workshop yesterday about poetry, about inspiration and communication. I talked about being part of this thing here in the wonderful world of online wherein different people can come together to write their responses to a prompt (I use the prompts set by Sara at Mum Turned Mom) and encourage each other, inspire each other, big each other up.
I love it.
After the workshop I realised I hadn't found anything for the latest prompt yet. This morning I sat down and thought about crashes, about women being told they're a car crash waiting to happen, about my beautiful friend with her dangerous decisions, which I must admit I resented. But I was there anyway.
This poem is for her.
Crash
You turn, twirling
and I hold on to your petticoats,
layers of tulle rendering you
the only woman worth seeing.
You spin, darling, dancing,
all eyes on you
and when you crash down
in some strangers room
it is I who will guard you,
who will barter over bodies.
I carry your flat shoes
for the slow walk of morning.
Ⓒ Cara L McKee 25/6/17
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