Her name resonates with old world gentility, Margaret Fournier.
An unrecognized scepter, disguised by coarse thumbs and calloused elbows,
she bows her head for a moment, not to mumble or pray,
just to exhale,
before proceeding to pound the stains out of the lilliputan slacks.
Perhaps, tomorrow she’ll do something for herself....
A frustrated cry sweeps her fancies under her tongue,
she adjusts to the present.
She finds herself thinking – not about anything,
simply thinking – the hum of her imagination drones
an evanescing bass while a shrill melody
fleetingly wafts in and away.

How her heart throbs after it’s strained;
whether passion or pain, .
The rush of the beat echoes in the inner chambers of her ears;
the reverberation is deafening –
causing her to scrunch her shoulders
as if to shield her head from pain.
She wonders if in a humdrum life
without reflection, without notoriety, without cause,
nobility still resides.
Still, panic goads her inflated heart.
She knows she can not stop
living. If only her heart had bounds,
desiring greatness is to be like God –
and who is she? The hollow of life,
the source – maternal and cunning, female and shrewd –
an origin of humility, (of reception), of welcome.
Steadfastness’ pitch grates her raw, and yet,
she continues to love what is hers deeply,
to cry with her broken heart, to laugh when she’s glad,
to be a dinted cane for her crippled senses.
Her eyes shut, sour and fiery,
burdened by aspiring divinity.
How can she escape her mold,
the form of her knowledge, the dust of her wisdom?
She’s trapped, though mercifully by her soul’s intent –
to live a lifemoment of kindness.

Somewhere, in her memory to come, she taps her cane,
not just the mythological thrice,
but unceasingly until time ends.
At eternity, the cane cracks,
a staff of splendid regalia, emblematically jewelling forbearance,
a ruby of the feminine, is found in her open hand.
The traffic, subdued by the weight of night,
waves rhythmically towards and away from the window.
As the child suckles, craning her neck to chew his ears,
humming unceasingly, she lulls her insomniac mind to infinite rest.