Madonna

The faces of the
woman change each
time she turns to the
light, turns a
facet to the light
and a different refraction
glitters and one
sees her for the first time
and she replaces all
she has been
with a new  thing
until, giddy and
delirious she
loses all sense of
who  she was before
the cutter came and
honed  her gem
into a fine diamond
faceted and hard
glittering in the light.
Collected Works
Return to Collections all
next poem