In the corner of every mind
lives a gypsy.
Ends and odds of an ancient life
held loose, crammed tight,
listing pot-cart, tattered tent,
Syrian cave, Brooklyn tenement.
"See the bear dance,"
crowded cobblestones of Istanbul.
"Palms read, know your fate."
Two flights up, in the back.
Dance across Spain,
Gitanos bravios.
Greet your kin in
travellers tongue.
Kith you are as well
to the goldwashers of Transylvania.
When death marched across Europe
Sinti turned Ziguener
in a final heartbeat.
Still, your sister, Vlach Rom born,
stepped across Mother Russia
humming the song of Panjabi.
Such width and breadth
to your barefoot world.
Such freedom in being dead
to respectable folk.
Yes, in the corner of every mind,
lives a gypsy.
Tragedy and laughter
carved in his flesh,
flowers stenciled on her soul.
A contest entry
- Huge points, huge options (Now with a free membership!) by Meroza.
16000 points, ended January 5, 115 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
I would appreciate suggestions in punctuation and line breaks.
Comments
-
This is an interesting take in the prompt, and well written.
Good luck and best of luck
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