Her Closet is Color Coded

I don't often put up my own poetry, but here is one for you.

Her Closet is Color Coded
She is a dependable, caring,
salt of the earth, Safe Block mother.
Her closet is color coded.
She recycles her cans, doesn’t drink much.
Her bills are paid on time.
She flosses, doesn’t miss her physical,
she’s never late for work,
takes her vitamins religiously,
always votes, never litters.
She’s raised a child, rising every day
no matter how tired.
She’s attended a million meetings,
washed a trillion dishes, and
washed more dirty socks than
she can count with a calculator.

But, she’s missed so much, doing so little.
Dotting every “i”, walking on a tightrope,
She forgot to have fun, to live, to party.
She always thought she could make up
for lost time, but she didn’t know that she’d
be too old to care, too tired to try, burnt out.

She doesn’t like getting drunk,
it interferes with her medications.
She can’t wear killer heels, they hurt her feet.
Sexy outfits don’t come in her size now.
She’d have an affair, but she’s too tired.
She’d tell more people to go to hell,
but she needs their help.
She tried wearing lots of red hats.
It didn’t really do anything for her,
except make her head itch.
There’s not that much
she’d still like to do except live, 
but she doesn’t know how.

First appeared in Lucidity Poetry Journal, Summer 2012.

TWITTER: @poetonpoetry

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and have a book coming out called #100MillionGirls.


Michael La Salle said...

The feeling is a transcendent mood, reflective in its nature of contemplation. The meaning draws upon continuity of daily perception. The tone's enhancing feature is the suitableness and consistency that brings the reader to the moment. And leaves us wondering what it means to live. Sentimental, thought provoking and masterfully crafted.

Rhiannon Hall said...

I'm glad you decided to share this poem with us. I love the realist narrative captured. The thought of growing old and discovering that we have been left with certain regrets is a concern we all share.