The Call to the Common Women

Pull away the dark screen of impossibility,
the veil where the future lies—you stand a recluse,
shrunken holding a small child. It is not as if

you’ve wasted a life, bring yourself to the curtain
open it, let light illuminate the wrinkles in your skin,
the sheer weight age causes. Our luminaries use Botox

but we, ordinary citizens, move free with our
un-paralyzed faces drooping with sincerity.
The elites use elevated language, pedantic, their smile

fixed behind a veil. Is our future a lost frontier?
The child withers from political posturing, slips from arms,
falls like a heavy basket of potatoes onto cement.

Grandmothers carry the burden. Lost respect a knife
that escapes no women. Sleepwalk into the future,
rest awhile—sit on a bench, take a penetrable pause,

a mosquito lands to find blood, a lioness crouches,
every muscle in her pounce-pose exacting the perfect
moment to kill, her babies will be fed.

Hold still before speaking, immunity waits,
self aggrandizing imposes impossibilities
only the common woman will overcome.

Photo Credit: Phototravelography Flickr via Compfight cc

Categories: Poetry

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Julene Tripp Weaver

Julene Tripp Weaver is a psychotherapist and writer in Seattle, WA. Her three poetry books are: truth be bold—Serenading Life & Death in the Age of AIDS, (Finishing Line Press, 2017), No Father Can Save Her (Plain View Press, 2011), and a chapbook, Case Walking: An AIDS Case Manager Wails Her Blues (Finishing Line Press, 2007). Julene worked for 21 years in AIDS services. She is widely published in journals and anthologies. Her poems can be found online at Anti-Heroin Chic, Riverbabble, River & South Review, The Seattle Review of Books, HIV Here & Now, and Writing in a Woman's Voice. Find more of her writing at and @trippweavepoet on Twitter.

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