A Woman Prepares Herself for the Day
Where Words Go
by Becky Dennison Sakellariou
ATHENS Greece—(Weekly Hubris)—2/20/12—Once I imagined a man sitting on the side of a bed in the morning watching a woman get ready for her day. This is the poem, in his voice.
A Woman Prepares Herself for the Day
He watches her, stunned
at how she knows what to do.
That she knows which jar of cream
to use on her neck, which for her face.
That she knows which to use first,
and how her eyebrows must be.
That she knows, walking back and forth
between the bathroom and the bedroom,
which mirror will tell her what she wants to know,
which mirror helps her do her hair best.
That she tucks her hair behind her ears,
it falls forward, and, unfazed, she tucks it back again.
Her rings go on last, after the watch and the bracelet.
How does she know this? how can she do it
the same every morning? who taught her?
The lipstick goes on after the hair is done.
Why is that? how could he ever be a woman?