15 November 2020

A Third Poem for a November Sunday

Robyn Hood
by Kate Baer

Imagine if we took back our diets,
our grand delusions, the time spent
thinking about the curve of our form.
Imagine if we took back every time we
called attention to one or the other: her
body, our body, the bad shape of things.

Imagine the minutes that would stretch
into hours.  Day after day stolen back like
a thief.

Imagine the power of loose arms and 
assurance.  The years welcomed home in a 
soft, cotton dress.


Nance said...

Oh, just imagine! What a wistful, yet gently powerful poem.

steph said...

love this.....and so true!!! Although at my age, I must admit, I've stolen back quite a few of those hours because I've finally become comfortable in my own skin!

Dee said...

As I get older I notice how much magazines that claim to support women ACTUALLY let them know in no uncertain terms that they "do not measure up". How many years have we spent chasing a vision that we could never reach. It's a shame we don't learn earlier to let that shit GO!

KSD said...

As beautiful as the whole poem is, the "soft, cotton dress" is breathtaking.

kathy b said...

Oh that is powerful and Poignant. Eating counting points , is a way of life for me now. But it is a health issue. My mother was very into us staying thin. She was the first to say "oh those arms" and then offer us cookies.
She put us on Dextrim in our teens to keep our hunger managed. MOM!!!! I cannot blame her for anything. She was a saint.

Ellen D. said...

Words to take to heart. I don't worry about how I look anymore. No one is looking so I can be happy with myself.