White frocks and patent leather shoes,
Dainty ankle socks with lacy curls –
The pictures of long ago taken not so long ago.
The girls that didn’t live to long legs, slender arms, impossible hair,
end up in garden poetry and ghost stories.
A Vassar girl who wore a tie; a long line of activism and a brief existence.
Dare I say that the fame framed your life?
A saint named, but not in the litany. I feel outside myself when I think of it.
I have a thing for older men too. Maybe they all died with him.
The early meter and images stay with me
The rest I leave to monotony.