all poems and photographs
© by Maya Stein

all poems and photographs
© by Maya Stein
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Sunday, July 03, 2005

smack dab

she was
smack dab
between a wedding
(not hers)
and a baby
(not hers)
and a divorce
(not hers)
and a death
(not hers)

still
and maybe because of this,
because none of this
was actually hers
she was able to find a good dress
for all of it,
dab, appropriately, at her eyes
during the ceremonies
and then move on
with the rest of her life,
which, in its own way,
deserved just as much
of her celebration.

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