Youngest Daughter

Painted gate of summer nights,
accomplice of my coming
and my going in the hot wind
of adolescence, my mouth
defiant with lipstick,
my body fluent as flames
in the world's arms,
how shall I live without you
in the mustard seed of heaven
where the entrance
to pavilions woven
from the wings of Peruvian
butterflies opens
and closes so silently
that the light sleep of my parents
beside still waters
goes undisturbed;
without the screak of alarm
in your hinge, how will they know
their youngest daughter,
buttons of her blouse undone,
is home from the dance
in the coolness of dawn.

copyright 2007 Geri Rosenzweig
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Barnwood magazine
Contents 07