Adrienne Rich | Women
My three sisters are sitting
on rocks of black obsidian.
For the first time, in this light, I can see who they are.
My first sister is sewing her costume for the procession.
She is going as the Transparent lady
and all her nerves will be visible.
My second sister is also sewing,
at the seam over her heart which has never healed entirely,
At last, she hopes, this tightness in her chest will ease.
My third sister is gazing
at a dark-red crust spreading westward far out on the sea.
Her stockings are torn but she is beautiful.
As a woman and human being, I would think that every day is my day, but it is not for everyone for reasons too varied and complicated. Since the world dictates that March 8 is the Women’s Day, it provides a valid reason to march Women poems here on BWAB. Each poem will be accompanied with a woman photo I captured in my travels.