Creative Consciousness At Its Best! || Devrie Paradowski <bgsound src="http://www.meetingofthemindsjournal.com/11thIssue/04.mid" loop=true>

Meeting of the Minds JournalDevrie Paradowski

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Une Femme

Sierra snatches
a broken black crayon
and draws a circle
on crisp white paper.

She tilts her head
toward the awkward
curvature;

curls her dark eyes
on me while
her left hand spins
in and pins an eye
like the hand of
a record player.

She throws in the
hard black pupil then

draws a second,
much bigger eye.
Then an arched line
swept cheek
to cheek.

No nose.

Two lines from the head;
two legs from the chin.
She fixes them as a matter
of formality, with the quick
punctuation of a last minute
post-it note left
on the refrigerator.

Sierra beams, sweeping
back the plastic green chair,
clutches the corner of the
paper and says,

"Look mama, it's a girl."

It doesn't matter
who she is, this
dilapidated creature
squinting like a salty
old man over the
stern of his ship.

It doesn't matter
because she
is smiling.

 

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