The Pose

(Poem by Wendy Howe )

In this moment,
the ceiling's tiara
crowns the humanity
of two women who stand

bonded by their strength
rather than lineage. Both
are rooted in maternal wisdom
and a country's garden.

The Queen
at eighty-three,
blooms gracefully pale
as a tea rose in her pink dress,

The First Lady
looms tall and elegant
as a poplar tree that would line
a paved road or meadow path.

Her arm around the royal shoulder
and the royal arm around her waist,
clasp the warmth of two generations
as figures blend in shadow
on the silk carpet.. Both women

stand quietly,sweetsilence
while their heels punctuate
the moment with shining marks
of exclamation.
© 2011, Wendy Howe. E-mail.

To know more  about this poem,   about Wendy Howe

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