NINE WOMEN: Observations in Group Therapy DIANA twitters. She beats her auburn wings against an invisible cage. Its bars are strong, but bendable like the lark's song. Her bill, open, could twist bamboo. Her tongue flutters, with rage, perhaps, as she sings. Her eyes pierce us all with journeys she must make. She's one more bird we can ignore, or admire when she perches on the sill at last. At dawn, she sings, full of new fire. Fed, she flashes us a glimpse of feathers, bright red. She needs to fly. ELIZABETH makes no mistakes. Sleekly she moves. She finds the sunniest spot on the window sill where she eyes birds and poets. She notes well strengths and flaws of her sisters here. Modestly, she pauses to lick her paws and counts again the funniest dinners and diners complete with cakes and cheer. She wants to dine well. She signs her name and gazes at each creature sharing her cage. Meow. She smiles at each new version of hell. TINA brooks no nonsense. Each bovid among us carries a book, She has checked them out. Her eye-lashes are long and rich, like the milk of the herd. She is the last of the cattle into the barn, lowing gently, to guide her friends into line, keeping track, while swallows in the rafters peer down to see if she has brought a key to lock up all our secrets or, likely, set them free. We listen with care, watching her beginnings of a smile She lowers her horns, to gently prod the hay, to find truth, hidden guile. RHODA notices things we don't. She waits for treats, for a walk through Central Park, or maybe the beach. Her new leash is trimmed with rhinestones, her collar jingles with affection and a little bell to tell us we must pay attention. She is alert to doors opening. She knows what perches on the window sill. In this dish is nonsense, in that one is wisdom. She points immediately to the one most likely to make her happy. Her eyes are bright, and her nose tells you good morning. She is clever and she knows how to please women and men, frightened fools and presidents. MARGARET outruns most idiots. Her gait is strong and steady. How many women are horses in disguise? Listen to her nostrils whuff as she breathes into your hand. She will accept your carrot or mints. Her large eyes remain calm, and she watches as we sing or attempt to leap fences again and again. Then she tosses her head, impatient to run, and quietly canters through the park to leave the leaves behind, fooling us about stuff. She still wants to graze where it is always forbidden. CAROLE lines her cage with paper. She is building a nest, learning language too. She says, in signs: I need a rest. A star in the zoo's simian exhibit, she passed the test. She is the smartest chimp, the one who first learned words. Now she tears them up. She wants to break the rules-- decorates her nest with letters, dreams of mom and dad. She's feeling very sad, but still salvages bits of humor. In her cage, she saves sounds of laughter, and kisses all envelopes good night, learning their secrets of how to be happy, when she wakes up. EMILY, you dear deer, Bambi would fall in love with you. All the forest thinks you're sweet, but we know you're a foolish doe. You browse too close to the highway. Tentatively you step closer and closer to the lights and sounds of the street. You nibble on fresh-mown grass, your eyes reflecting high beams of cars with no thought of you. Stop in your path, lost deer. what seems good in your vision, gleams, but it is an illusion. Her fragile legs should not go where the brightness contains lies. LISA is happy in her school of freshwater friends. Confident with the power of numbers, she coasts with her partner and colleagues. The sun sparkles on her fins. She adroitly turns and swims in another direction. Gills calmly close, open, close. She watches us with detached amusement. She turns and faces the world. Startled at some sudden sound, she swims away, only to see at last, how small this aquarium really is. MARY with serpentine skill, crawls around the tree again. She drapes her green self from branch to branch. Her tiny eyes glitter as she gazes on each creature as potential poetic lunch. Suavely, she coils around nuggets of human nature, shrugging off skin and scales, and smothers what might chirp, or bark, or cry out to tell another tale. She won't listen. She foils all probes, and paints these portraits as she will, tongue flickering with wit and willfulness. Until we eat again. c2001Mary Kennan Herbert |
Mary Kennan Herbert |
Mary Kennan Herbert teaches literature and writing courses at colleges and universities in New York City. Her poems have appeared in literary journals in 13 different countries. Her first three collections of poems were published by Ginninderra Press in Australia; her fourth and most recent book, "Coasts," was published by Meadow Geese Press in Massachusetts. She was awarded first prize in the 1999 poetry competition sponsored by the Midwest Conference on Christianity and Literature. |
