At Coney Island eating a Nathan hot dog, though smaller than ones in the sixties
Nobody sat on the damp cold beach, and a small flock of seagulls resting on
One foot at a time, hoping for crumbs to share
Loving a pastoral life and being a teen too, she was footloose and fancy free
Though much later, Big-City-New York trained her to be still and steady
And see ones' world like it is, and change with will
Several years before that turbulent sixties flow, soon after graduating high school,
She hopped on the path of shoals of mothers, fathers leaving the south, and
Crying babies behind. Some crying still, and asking why forsake us then?
A long time ago when young and unaware, had no husband and no children
took one misstep, then another set her off on a reckless course to destruction
And living in the thick of the ruins, for a good while.
Later years, after regaining footing: with eternal energy, she just dances!
November 8,2014
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem