Finding Her Here
by Jayne Relaford Brown
I am becoming the woman
I’ve wanted,
gray at the temples,
soft body, delighted,
cracked up by life
with a laugh that’s
known bitter
but past it, got
better,
knows she’s a survivor—
that whatever comes,
she
can outlast it.
I
am becoming a deep
weathered
basket.
I
am becoming the woman I’ve longed for,
the
motherly lover
with arms strong and
tender,
the growing up daughter
who blushes surprises.
I am becoming full
moons
and sunrises.
I find her becoming,
this woman I’ve wanted,
who knows she’ll
encompass,
who
knows she’s sufficient,
knows
where she’s going
and
travels with passion.
Who
remember she’s precious,
but
knows she’s not scarce—
who
knows she is plenty,
plenty
to share.
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