Downcast, Not Broken

Time for Poetics in the dVerse Poets Pub .. Melissa has us focused on the art of  Gerard Sekoto, born in 1913 in South Africa .. our challenge .. compose an ekphrastic poem!

Woman With Downcast Eyes, 1955

I carry the morning on my shoulders 

heavy as the tin roof trembling in the wind

some days the dust calls me by name

coating my skin

settling in my breath

how much of this world

am I willing to swallow?

I walk with eyes lowered

not in shame but in study

I have learned to stitch hope

from the smallest of threads

a child's laughter, the blooming jacaranda

Let them say the world is unkind

let them say the load is too much

I will carry it anyway

step by step

breath by breath

My Man Done Me Wrong Blues

Melissa is hosting  dVerse Poetics in the Pub. She asked us to read the lyrics and listen to the song "Folsom Prison Blues" by Johnny cash ~ and write a poem about whatever it evokes for us. 

The poem I share today was written and the video recorded long ago ~ never published. I felt the poem fit Melissa's 'prison' challenge and perhaps it was actually time to post!!

Migrant Mother, Dorothea Lange

My man he gone and left me, done me wrong

my man he gone and left me, done me wrong 

left me with three young'uns 

to raise up good and strong

My mama taught me good, she did

my mama taught me good

taught me everything she could

before she hit that road called "skid"

My mama taught me good, she did

she taught me real good 

i'm just a-wishin' and a-longin'

for them good ole days

I don't need no man to make me whole 

I don't need no man to make me whole

Cause there ain't no man alive

can steal my soul

Girl Scout in the Woods

 Lillian is hosting Poetics in the dVerse Poets Pub ~ it's about Forests!! 

[ Sending healing energy Lillian's way ]

David Bruyndonckx ~ Unsplash

Twelve / soft in the bones

but braver than I knew

a borrowed sleeping bag

zippered tight / my cocoon

spread over pine needles 

resting on damp earth

A circle of girls / not quite strangers

not quite sisters / until the camp fire was lit

crackling like a living thing / never fully gone

burning low and steady / counselors laughing

speaking in voices that made safety feel easy

like it had always been there

In morning smoke / pancakes crisped at edges

sweetened with syrup and smoky joy  

i didn't ask what lay beyond the woods

i didn't need to / it would wait 

it would always wait

And when i was ready 

i would walk into the forest

not fearful / not quite fearless

but filled with something strong

just beginning to name itself