March 7, 2009 12:27 AM
For Miss Claudel
Did you love being there away from them all
and the stones and the soil
that crush-fed your wings?
None of the bull
anymore,
just breeze and wonder,
dew and suns, meals
and hatless, clockless thoughts-
no shows
no need
to force and thrust
and meet the old competing men
and women scornful in their sleep
doomed on Earth to never know a
a little glass gazelle,
an alabaster fairy,
Charged with Creating,
sentenced to care.
© 2009 by Christina Pitrelli
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