My three sisters are sitting
on rocks of black obsidian.
For the first time, in this light, I can see who they are.

My first sister is sewing her costume for the procession.
She is going as the Transparent lady
and all her nerves will be visible.

My second sister is also sewing,
at the seam over her heart which has never healed entirely,
At last, she hopes, this tightness in her chest will ease.

My third sister is gazing
at a dark-red crust spreading westward far out on the sea.
Her stockings are torn but she is beautiful.

by Adrienne Rich

Comments (3)

hey i have read that aunt jennifer's toger and it is awesome, i like the way u present things. it is beyond world
touching poem... touching every female psyche... highly metaphoric... touching various sides of feminity...
This is lovely, a history of sisterhood, and of being a woman..