Red Bloomers Poem by Lois Read

If Emily D had worn red bloomers
under that stiff black bombazine,
wrapped herself in a Spanish shawl

she couldn't have stayed in that bedroom
day after day, hurling her heart
to the heavens in stacatto phorases.

She would have wandered about
getting dust on her high-button shoes
lifted a glass with Rumi in some

friendly tavern, met a black swan,
maybe even married him.
She would have written her poems

gaily as she went here and there
on the backs of grocery lists,
given them as blessings to strangers.