God cut
a piece
out of the charcoal night,
held it
in one hand,
and waited.
When light came,
God shook
the dark piece
and beheld:
the little
black dress.
Then, God
looked about
for tan shoulders
on which to
perfectly drape it.
(the rest
is herstory).
- For Ingrid Michaelson/copyright 2009/twmcdermott
I highly recommend Ingrid's new album, Everybody. If you do not have it, get it. Now. You will not be sorry.
Love the poem!
ReplyDeleteWomen wearing a black dress always have stories to tell.