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About This Poem
Ethiopian Pearl
Bright white sharp teeth open
and shut, for years she sat
chained with the madman,
howling and biting like a
wild dog at whoever
passes by.
We were young, hand in
hand and I would do anything
for her and she for me. She
gave me a pearl once and I
hid it in my jacket pocket
for over a year.
I painted a still life for her
of our home with large windows
on each side (more than a dab of windows),
a place to dream and relax in the
sun and watch the gnarled pear
trees grow.
I remember the day she began
to fade. She had to become
white. Her badly bleached hair
cheap and yellow. Her beautifully
sculpted nose captured in a metal
brace. Lovely full lips now cut
and taped.
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