You reconstruct me so cheerfully.
To you it is an act of love:
to find me as I once was,
to return me to it.
There, see? A woman on a train.
See, of course, her pearl necklace!
There she is, reading a newspaper.
She clutches her umbrella.
Look, see, she is not so broken!
But when someone comes by
and sees not a woman
but a ruined city smoldering
or a spring lake in thaw
or a curtain rising
or a ransacked ship keeping to its course
or Mt. Sinai with its holy thunder,
do not correct them.
Christy Lee Barnes
Christy Lee Barnes has published writing in Prairie Schooner, Cream City Review, Cagibi, McSweeneys, Spillway, Tin House online, and elsewhere. She's an educator originally from Los Angeles who now lives in Seattle with her husband and one-year-old son.
The Ekphrastic Review
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