Gallery of an Old Woman

This is me at fifty, prying open
my chest with both hands,
mandorla doorway to a cavern 
of crumbled yellow Legos.
Watch them fall out. My children 
step on them in the dark.

I’m not quite beautiful.
Motherly mustache, single 
whisker, necklace of thorns, 
I wear my grandmother’s
long dead hummingbirds
like forgotten songs.

On the shelf is a spiral
shell, one my daughter
brought back from Spain.
When I miss her, I hold it
in my palm. Where does
the inside of the spiral end?

Is it one-eyed, eyeless,
this love for my children,
now grown? Where do I look 
or swim, my wings, 
my webbed feet, full 
of hollow bones?

Two monkeys chained 
to the window sill of my eyes
ignore the boats. Instead,
I’m lost in clouds—
floating white blood cells 
saving me by fading.

with thanks to the following works of art:
Two Monkeys, 1562, by Pieter Brueghel the Elder
Yellow, 2007, by Nathan Sawaya
Self-Portrait with Thorn Necklace and Hummingbird, 1940, by Frida Kahlo
Decoy Study (Duck), 2014, by Maskull Lasserre
Sky Above Clouds III, 1963, by Georgia O’Keeffe
White Shell with Red, 1938, by Georgia O’Keeffe