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A Poem a Day to Millennium 29 September 1999


   I was 25 and riding
   down 44th avenue at five
   in my husband's car in rush hour
   he at the wheel
   me barely alive
   he was ranting and raving
   it was 1968
   and in his frenzied state
   rebuked "women's lib" glibly
   and with some hefty hate
   It was then that I reached
   back underneath my summer top
   unhooked those most familiar hooks
   hooked for years without a stop
   hooked and now unhooked
   for the last and final time
   It was black and white hounds' tooth
   a very bold design
   once unhooked
   the arms found their way free
   the first act of freedom having to be
   the car's decoration
   the hoisting of the colors
   the flying of the flag
   size 34 B
   from the antenna going down 44th ave
   in rush hour traffic drag
   in Wheatridge Colorado
   on a long hot summer's day
   in 1968 it was a beginning anyway

   Vintage forty-three
   a war baby me
   a product of Romantic love
   of vanity and ego
   of Dick and Jane
   of silence and pain
   of fear and guilt
   of strength and determination
   and from there and many other places
   all along the way
   I began to arrive here at my destination
   free and more than just alive
   flowering in the desert
   offering up my seeds in thanks
   connected to the earth and sky
   celebrating the daily dance
   of being one with all
   From here I write these poems.

- Pamela Patrick

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