In Disturbed
ever wonder
what it’s like to live
where you live now
after the words
the notes the muse
have made your world
with all
your fame
and wealth
and afterthoughts
it is not a place
most women know
the anger of
fathers the
long silence of
mothers
cast away
with the howling
of the wind
so much dry
blown far
into the
hinterlands
of the thawing north
your power commanding
restraint from leering men
your faith rooted
in what you alone
decide to let inside
your walled menagerie
where buds unwrap
the green leaf embryos flush
with pink morning
the fertile unfurling
of another perfumed season
i think of you
beside the sea
in that inviolate place
where summer warms
your skin and salt
air fills your lungs
i imagine you
on those days
when you reach
for morning
bend to smell
new roses opening red
above hidden thorns
in their tended beds
tell your stories
that repeat
to those
who can’t
who won’t
on this good earth
or on another
distant ball of rock
circling another
white flaming star
i see you step out
from behind
the shadows
of today’s
fabulous guests
nursing champagne
on your patio
of fine gray
stone
walk alone through
emerald gardens
mockingbirds
startle with
the old fear
when you appear
fly and leave you
disturbed
in the silence
between songs