Poetry Winners
The Dazzle of Beads
Poetry - Third Place
My bathroom looks the same
as you saw it last.
The dogwood branch, sprayed white,
festooned with earrings & bright beads,
a lavender sea fan
netting a pair of miniature pointe shoes.
"Where's the john?" Mother
used to joke
looking for simple porcelain,
ordinary spigots at the sink.
You used to drag friends
clear across the living room
to the place where I prepare myself
to face the world outside.
I rise daily to that world
with memories of another:
Dad walking barefoot down the hall
searching my bathroom in vain
for a comb,
Peter's homemade sign
hanging on the door:
this room is condemned
by the board of health.
And then you,
so taken by my harmless pageantry,
the only one who
stopped by to see the whimsy,
and clearly cherished it
loved all of me,
down to the last brilliant bead.
