When I first got back,
I thought people would
wish to listen,
moved by my unlikely tale.
Soon I saw that to them I was
mere pariah, outcast,
traveler from a far country
no one had ever heard of,
or believed in.
These goods I brought home
were invisible to all
but the most discerning eye.
My recitals, my celebrations
and laments for what had transpired,
a dumb-show
to all but the most
finely tuned ear.
Now I am ringed by a halo of silence,
and move cautiously,
mouth closed
over this stone
I carry on my tongue.
~ Dorothy Walters
from Marrow of Flame
0 comments:
Post a Comment