A ROOM OF ONE'S OWN

"We do not claim any space

we do not own any

the power is theirs

ours is the

decorating of the space

with care and romance"

a thousand years of

my mother's mother's obligation

has me tied

the greed for my space

buried in deep confusion

promising more each day

to everything

more than I can humanly fulfill

I weave the background

with bleeding fingers

and an injured soul

for them to run the show

and bask in the applause

Dear Virginia

you were so right

about that "room of one's own"

not the kitchen where

the memory of a burnt cake lingers

not the bedroom

where no matter how great

me would always be

a part of the huge"us"

not the living room

with the smells and echoes

of so many thoughts

This then is that room

this white space of mine

waiting for my words

the blinking cursor

beating like my

eager heart

to pour my soul out !