Kate
She moved slowly in the cane-backed rocker
Too and fro in the Summer heat
St Louis was unforgiving
Was there no escape?
She paused and walked to the bureau
Running her hand across the smooth worn oak
Opening the topmost drawer
She reached far back.
The small bundle in tissue
Tied with a ribbon
Called out to her
She carefully removed it in the fading light.
Untying the ribbon, She laid it aside
The paper creases retained the package’s shape
But were soon unfolded to reveal
A single pair of black silk stockings.
Lifting them in her left hand
She caressed them with her fingers
But the barbs of age and hard life
Caught the fine silk.
Turning her hand
She continued to stroke
The stockings with the back
Of her hand.
Raising them to her cheek
She embraced the treasure
Moving it slowly as a lover’s kiss
Gently, softly.
The faint scent
Of Magnolias
Teased her nose
And she was transported…
Kate Coplin
(Based on Coplin's short story, A Pair of Silk Stockings, which reveals much about her life.)
Categories:
coplin, longing, self,
Form: Blank verse