She

Never mind
The corpse you see
Strapped to my back;
She’s been with me
Since I was about Four.

Though she stinks
Something awful,
She’s really quite lovely...
Cherokee cheekbones,
Ripe apple lines,
Cinnabar skin,
Warm cocoa irises
And a watercolor smile
That took her places
Around the world!

She’s had tea with kings
In England, Italy, China
Liberia, Turkey, Serbia
And even Mars.
Birds still sing
Her praises!
“Ti voligio bene!”
“Nup nola!”
“čokoláda dèvōjka!”
The geishas have nothing
Over her.

She’s played pianos, flutes
And horns of various sizes
---And oh, not to mention
Her skills in art;
She could make a man
Stand still
---for hours.

Though she doesn’t look it now,
She was quite an
Impressionist
In her day.
“Intelligence senza
Arrogance”---ah!
This made her canvas
So Matisse!
So Rothko!
So O’Keefe!

Let me stop on that note;
She always hated
Rambling---even still,
I really miss her,
My pitiful little bird.

She spoke a million languages
Yet never said a...
Word.



Linette Marie Allen, Copyright 2008