Piece, German, Silk on Canvas, 19th century
To My Last Period
by Lucille Clifton
well, girl, goodbye,
after thirty-eight years.
thirty-eight years and you
never arrived
splendid in your red dress
without trouble for me
somewhere, somehow.
now it is done,
and i feel just like the
grandmothers who,
after the hussy has gone,
sit holding her photograph
and sighing, wasn’t she
beautiful? wasn’t she beautiful?
from Collected Poems of Lucille Clifton. Boa Editions, Ltd., 1991
Creative Invitations
How does it feel to arrive at a place, neither near or far, that you have forgotten to look forward to? Did you reign, feel yourself victorious, or did you rain on your own parade? Speak of your experiences with anticipation and non-anticipation—of the roof falling off and the sink magically not leaking anymore. Celebrate something undone, late or done for.