Connie, Little Girl From Lowa Poem by Ryszarda Pelc

Born in the heart of the country
she never grew up (really) .
Until now she remembers the tension
around the table at her home in Iowa
and (because of that)
'I eat only twice a day' she confessed
(Thursday afternoon, August,93)
lying on her back in the Holiday Inn swimming pool.

Mother of three, (they grew up and are gone)
lives on the bank of Le Croix river, in Hudson, Wisconsin.
When she is done with her daily duties, voluntary jobs at hospital
and in the ticket office, with her writing
(she writes sitting on the floor; she never grew up)
when she is done with...God knows what else,

she perches on the balcony watching the white sails
on the river blue, gray, silvery, golden, red or pink
(depends on the mood of the sky and density of clouds)
she watches walkers, joggers, dogs passing, running by
and she is longing for her old home in the woods
('sweet privacy' there was nobody around)

The girl from Iowa likes beef sandwiches
(she has eaten for 25 years in the same restaurant, nothing ever but beef sandwiches)
she likes silk flowers; red roses and pink tulips which she bought one day
and decorated her living room with the fireplace and view...

She has girl friends (of course) :
one of them freezes credit cards in a jar full of salad dressing
('This is the best way to avoid spending')
another brought stones, smooth, polished by water (by how many years?) .
The girl from Iowa, in her car le Baron, carries the stones
(in plastic bag, pink ribbon on)
and looking at them learns how to make life go smoothly...

This is The End of my story
about girl born in the heart of the Country,
about Connie, my friend from Iowa.