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Arts & Entertainment

In the Details: Middle Daughter

Beauty disobeys any rational ideal.

This week, the theme of my poetry is "Beauty"

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I will be completing my month of writing "small stones" with the international community at "Writing our Way Home." I was asked to submit a guest post there called: "How We Make Big". Feel free to check in there!

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Middle Daughter

Find out what's happening in Stratfordwith free, real-time updates from Patch.

The middle daughter ended up being the pretty one.

Now that she's old and lined
Friends try to recall how good it was
To be young. But not her. She doesn't
Have to look at reflections to
See what the morning sun sees. 

The middle daughter wasn't always so nice.

Which is to say that in her
Time she dared to know her
Mind. She spent hours reading, then being  
Chattal to society-- pacing a lawn
As she quietly chewed on imaginary
Solutions to local tax laws and boundary disputes.

The middle daughter ate odd foods and awoke in the grey dawn.

Her desires disrupted the house. They
Called her cracked and broken--
For awhile she
Slumped in agreement or
Slashed at it. Then

One morning
She walked around the hedge and saw
Just fine--
The horizon's rolls obscured by mist. The
Chalky hills' broken patchwork 
Like a running stream. 

She repaired
The damage--
Or shimmed it--
And settled into
The cottage of her self.

The middle daughter ended up being the beautiful one.

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This post is part of a the poetry series, "" -- daily poetry and photos, inspired by where we live. 

The posts for January are part of an international small stone writing project "The River of Stones."

Read more small stones on Twitter at the #smallstone hashtag. You can find me on Twitter@smallstate.

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