Sunday, November 26, 2006

Piercing the Veil (an older one)



My crystal ball rests on the mantle,
a reminder of endless yesterdays,
hair flying past bared shoulders,
beaded earrings, bartered savagely
from Washington Square peddlers,
clinking in time to sandals slapping
over cobblestone trails.

A gypsy, they called me,
those men who bent to kiss the hem
of my skirt.

My feet now stick to one place,
velcroed by the gravity of lost choices,
sandals tossed to the trash
scarves folded into camphorwood chest
earrings, toys for my neighbor's child.

Yet, nights when the full moon rises
and the raven sings his sweet song,
I take my crystal ball into my lap
and gaze, eye to eye, at the glass.
I see the gypsy I once was,
the gypsy I still am.
My gift...
Me, returned to myself.
Welcome home, the crystal sighs.

Pris Campbell
(c)2002

10 comments:

Pat Paulk said...

We never change regardless of what our bodies tell us. Love the last three words!!

Pris said...

Thanks, Pat..and so true.

polona said...

i love this one!

Pris said...

Thanks, Polona!

Pris said...

Thanks, Ellen. Good to see you again.

Shirley Buxton said...

Enjoyed this writing very much. I also clicked on the family pictures link and looked at everyone. Memories! They're fabulous.

Blessings and joy,

Shirley Buxton
www.writenow.wordpress.com

Pris said...

Thanks, and welcome to my blog!

Joyce Ellen Davis said...

Pris, you think Pat's right, we never change regardless what our bodies tell us? I think my gypsy has danced right into the old rocking chair.... I enjoyed the poem--was right there beside you. I also took another look at your family photos! (I've been putting photos on my history blog all day, so was in the zone...so to speak.

Pris said...

Thanks, Pepe! Glad I stimulated you to add more photos, too.

Pris said...

Thanks, Michael. Glad to see you online again.