Tessa, I Love That Woman

roots_frida_kahlo

Frida Kahlo, Roots

All virtuous. Sweet mother of earth,
she’s swept into the center, took root,
amongst the graying mulch.
What? Are the men with all that old swag
going to wither, pant and ask for
a wheelchair?

This is how a woman grows.
All vines wreathed from within, branches
and branches–I love that woman.
She rested on an elbow planted on a pillow,
leaning with chest open, spewing veins
the color of green.

Prompt: Write an ekphrastic poem of this Frida Kahlo’s art piece. That’s the Day 6 prompt of Writer’s Digest’s 2016 PAD Challenge. I’m reminded of other art pieces I’ve seen–similar idea of the body as a garden. So maybe other artists have copied her idea. Whatever. Of course, the body returns to the earth upon death. In particular, the mother who gives birth is likened to the earth who nurtures plants. Rich imagery, right? And a metaphor, of course.

Don’t forget to tie your poem to Red Wolf Journal’s theme: Song Of Myself.

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