not delving too deeply, if I
must come back it will be
as inclusivity of thought
as vitality of indigenous
composure that balances
the source of my being
yes, she says, that’s right,
not vogue and banal clichés
hatched out of artlessness
there is no need for grand
and useless gestures bent
redressing classic angst
like ‘where were you in ’62’
opines not who and what of
me but THAT I’m Woman
oh fie, the poet sighs, I see
it thus holistically – as truth
enshrined in certainty
© 22 February 2011, I. D. Carswell
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