February 15, 2019

Jefferson Carter

FOR MY SISTER, THE FEMINIST

You told me
I can’t imagine
what it’s like
being a woman.

But I can
imagine being a horse,
a thoroughbred trained
against her nature
to outrun the safety
of the herd.

I can imagine
being a spoon, a loaf
of bread, a hummingbird,
even a werewolf,
in-grown hairs & all.
Why not a woman?

Don’t you remember
the night you woke up
sobbing & I left
my bed down the hall
to hold your hand
until you fell back to sleep?

from Rattle #62, Winter 2018

__________

Jefferson Carter: “As a poet, I’m an opportunist, not a writer with a project. Whatever tickles my fancy I write about, an exhilarating evening out with a poet friend or a dream about my younger sister. In grad school, I fell in love with Jonathan Swift; forty years later, I still must control my satirical bent to shield whatever is tender in my poems.” (web)

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