her poem began with an odd metaphor
a hound-tooth shadow
toothy and jagged
reaching through a tesserect
or a tunnel called time
the tooth-some bits nearly
touching but not-touching
the dark and light there
but not quite interspersed
still reaching out towards one another
as if the other would put the other
asunder
absorbing engulfing
swallowing all into one deep gulp
of reality
until it was consistently grey
there's no consistency
sometimes there
is no gravity
only a floating nearly-floating
amoeba-like mass of in-between
so when she clearly saw what she had seen
this pattern of perfect-imperfection
this hounds-tooth reflection
her metaphor for her life
she smiled
as if she recognized herself
and all her contradictions
"I'm not so complicated..."
She thought, wise-smiling,
if I can see this visual representation
of who and what I believe I am..hmmmm..
and at that moment
"the Hounds-tooth" a pattern mostly
reserved for manly-men
who are not thought high-maintenance
but who they are
now
became her friend.
LEGAL COPYRIGHT FOR THIS POEM 7:07AM PST TIME AND 1/13/2022 DATE STAMPED
