(June 27, 1936 - February 13, 2010 / Baltimore, Maryland)

Miss Rosie

when I watch you
wrapped up like garbage
sitting, surrounded by the smell
of too old potato peels
when I watch you
in your old man's shoes
with the little toe cut out
sitting, waiting for your mind
like next week's grocery
I say
when I watch you
you wet brown bag of a woman
who used to be the best looking gal in Georgia
used to be called the Georgia Rose
I stand up
through your destruction
I stand up

User Rating: 3,8 / 5 ( 33 votes ) 3

Comments (3)

I remember my aunt with man's shoes
Sad and tender write on how what we experience in our lives can have such devaststing effects on our aesthetics. Nicely written piece.
This poem is a very sad poem. It tells of a life of struggling! No good luck, but bad luck towards the end of her life.