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.