Poem by Donna Prinzmetal
Donna Prinzmetal is a poet, psychotherapist and teacher. She has taught poetry and creative writing for more than 25 years to adults and children. Donna often uses writing to facilitate restoration and healing in her psychotherapy practice. Her poems have appeared in many magazines including Prairie Schooner, The Comstock Review, and The Journal. Her first book, Snow White, When No One Was Looking, was published with CW Books in May of 2014. www.amazon.com/Snow-White-When-One-Looking www.facebook.com/DonnaPrinzmetalSnowWhite
In the song called Home
I am a young girl with a red bow around my neck.
ringing the doorbell next to the black door
by the Chinese elm.
In the song called Nobody,
a whistle blows its long exhale one night.
I am a stowaway on that train
with no known origin or destination.
I spit a cherry pit at midnight
and sift fingers through hot sand at noon.
I trill a garden tune and call it Loam.
My dirty hands hold yellow tomatoes
the shape of eggs.
In the one called Birth,
my children’s feet are roots in my small garden.
Their fingers reach high enough
to pluck cherries from the tree.
I miss my son’s bristly beard,
my daughter’s earth-smelling hair.
In the tune called Alone,
the owl is wooing me home.
I know each vowel of her song,
what each hooo means
the way a mother knows her baby’s distinct cry.
In the song called Marriage,
he says my secret name.
Today, I answer.
© Donna Prinzmetal