Relic She’s Become

This was the first assignment I was given in this little class I attended at the Public Library. Read a few paragraphs from the book, Cold Mountain, describing this goat woman, and rearranged the words to form a poem, throwing in a few of my own here and there.

Living so remote,
The woman observes the world with blue eyes, still bright.
The contentious world but a fading memory,
As is she.
Her mind still grasping a picture of herself some decades previous,
Only grooming her long, pale, cobweb hair by feel,
Never glancing at her reflection.
Only the sagging, puckering folds of hide about her eyes and jowls
Meet her fingertips and brindle across her brow.
With pink cheeks and a mind turned only toward God’s finer productions,
She lives, unaware of the relic she’s become.

3 replies
    • Noelle
      Noelle says:

      Yes, it was this week. I think it went pretty well. I hope that everybody learned some things and had fun throughout it. The library seemed pleased and even Mr. Graner, who tought the class after mine, said he enjoyed the few minutes of mine that he heard. I took the time to set up a program and just about everything went as planned, so I would say it went well. It was a great experience, and I wasn’t nervous at all. I like to teach and I think that it may be my thing. I hope so at least…

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