I Dreamt There was a Girl

  

I dreamt there was a girl

 -- the most beautiful girl you've ever seen --

who started working as a prostitute in New Orleans.  

No one could understand her reasons.  I was there.  

Sometimes I was the girl.  Sometimes I was a concerned observer 

and a friend when she needed one. I tried saving her, then I became her. 

And my husband was there.  Trying to make me stop.  He was angry.  

It was frightening. And my baby girl was there, trying to understand, 

but too little to know.

 

At the end of the dream, the woman disappeared.

We searched and searched the vice district. 

 No one knew where she'd gone. 

I found a book about her in the attic.  Seems she was famous, 

and just when I understood, we found her in an art showroom, 

her body morphing into different forms.  

Different outfits.  

She was a living art exhibit, 

showing women as seen through the eyes of others.  

From her mouth fell a river of verbal excrement, 

all knitted in wool.  Whore, mother, soldier, saint, sinner. 

She was all women, everywhere.  She had experienced it all.  

Because she had to experience it in order to tell it.

It was beautiful, fascinating, glorifying and horrifying.  

Like being a woman.

~ Elodie Pritchartt

May 13,2024

Photo taken from the internet.  If this is your photo and you object to it being used, please let me know and I'll remove it.

Mississippi Driveabout

I drove up to Jackson yesterday  to look at a dog.  She looked so sweet in the picture, but she was a whirling dervish, so I left her.  

I got lost coming home, which is actually a favorite thing of mine to do.  Thought y'all might enjoy some of these photos.

I had lunch at The Old Country Store in Lorman and loaded up on veggies.  Yummers.

Stopped and bought more flowers and plants to plant.  Taking a break to post this.

Y'all have a beautiful day.

 

Swimming Underwater

Can't remember if I took this photo or my brother-in-law, Tom Ackerman, took it. It's my ex-husband with our daughter, who took to swimming like a tadpole at only two years old.

Some days it's hard to love

the world. Old friends reject you.

Nations threaten nuclear annihilation.

Neighbors go to church every Sunday

and abuse the waitresses at lunch.

Move forward, even if it seems impossible,

even if you're no longer steady on your feet.

Appreciate the woman at the checkout line who

insists I go ahead of her.

The old lady in the produce section

who shared opinions on the best fruit.

Try to forget the ones who see you

but no longer speak.

Focus on the ones

who do, and remember there is good

in people and bad. There is cowardice.

There are grudges. There is bravery.

There is love. There is forgiveness. Sometimes.

Smile at the little girl staring up

from her mama's skirts, afraid of my white

skin. Smile at her and tell her she is beautiful

and bathe in her coy smile.

Nod at the homeless man

at the entrance to the store,

and when he asks if I can spare a little money,

give him more than he expected.

It's cold outside and wet.

Try not to grieve the living dead.

Just move as though through water

Each time someone pushes you under,

remember you can swim and breathe the air,

even if it burns.