Poetry & Prose

a room of my own


in my yellow daffodil pjs
on the hotel bathroom floor,
rereading the farewell letter
she wrote to me a couple of days before;
cold linoleum, ochre wallpaper,
the radiator sings its steady song.
it is here where i find a space for myself.

i hear the gentle rhythmic breathing
of my sisters in the bedroom,
but would prefer to stay here reading,
resting in my solitude.

along the tub, the shampoo minis
are lined up like small coke bottles–
i would have made the bath into a bar
if i were still a child.

would have turned the sink into a sea
for all my little dolls,
the soap a boat, the spout a slide,
the drain a great whirlpool–

now i look at my face in the mirror,
holding onto a home,
a place where i can see her.
a place where i’m alone.