I'm a country girl
A poem
I’m a country girl. It’s hard to grieve in the city.
The buildings are too flat. In the streets
loss flees its reflection in glass, memory
turns to dust in corners, is swept away,
becomes the sad smell in drains, bad dreams.
I’m a country girl. It’s hard to grieve in the city,
no bed of sand or grass to lie down in,
watch the forms of clouds return to formless.
Loss flees its reflection in glass, memory
has a voice too soft to be heard within
the din of traffic, the glare of looks and seems.
I’m a country girl. It’s hard to grieve
without hillsides of bare trees in winter
pale skies above long fallow fields.
Loss flees its reflection in glass, memory
seeks the smoke of brush fires layering
short evenings into ordinary nights.
I’m a country girl. It’s hard to grieve in the city.
Loss flees its reflection in glass, memory…