Sarah Beck Mather
A strong woman for dealing
With the dull pounding
Or is it future building?
As we drive to salt mill.
Speaking of old age into death
And loneliness with memories forgotten
Over the marriage.
A strong woman to lie sleepless at night,
But still hold on as he whispers, No No No.
To feel used by so many others,
A touch of renaissance.
Did it mean something? Does it mean something now?
I’m still here, remaining.
I became part of this salted-cream-rock,
Covered in clay and white paint.
I became part of the filigree,
Through the rivers
Night terrors in the kitchen.
I am a strong woman –
To mother as I have,
With the evidence destroyed.
Watching all the others.
To contain all of the fear and worry,
To still remain here.
I have become part of the building,
With the sound that is now part of my own
Along with the pylons that make it more Human.
Scared to walk under them,
But why should I be?
As a strong woman.
To deal with the pain That a man truly goes through
As you pound the table, Demanding me to not.
After all that,
I’m a strong woman because
I am here, I am here.
Find Sarah on Instagram: @sarahbeckmather