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Mother: Dressed Up

by Stephanie Strickland


A veilís tiny
black diamonds touch
your lashes, your cheeks.

Perfume
ringing from your wrist,
you lean

sideways on the stair.
Your brim, your lips just
brush me.

Faraway, mild,
your eyes
lift to him.

I am stunned by your body
trying to hide

its eagerness
to pull away
from mine.  

 

Stephanie Strickland’s poems have appeared in The Iowa Review, Poetry Now, West Branch, and elsewhere. She is Women's Studies Librarian at Sarah Lawrence. (4/1981)


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