Words fell from her lips
pooling on the floor, shimmering
Her body almost invisible as she read
moving with rhythm and purpose
Her shadow dancing on the wall melded with peeling paint
punctuating stories only she could tell
There was beauty to its ugliness
Her voice soft, almost a whisper
echoing in a room greedily swallowing all sounds
except for the scraping of our chairs against a cracked tiled floor
We pulled them forward to hear her speak
And when she was done, she sighed and bent her head
spent, drained, delivered
Power, her gift
Our attention, its vehicle
photo: Free Vectors
note:
I wrote this after watching a woman perform at The New World Deli for the 2017 Austin International Poetry Festival. She was very unassuming when she stepped on stage and then came to life as she read. She was amazing!
Poet's Corner 