Looking through an art magazine, I came across the image of Degas: Les Femmes Qui Se Peignent. I have not posted a photo here due to possible copyright infringement. However, I suggest that you Google it to get an image of where the inspiration for this short prose poem came from.
Inspiration is an interesting thing. One gets inspired and then either does or doesn’t do something with that inspiration. Once I engaged the inspiration, imagination took over. And who can predict where the writing goes from there?
She’d Get By, Right?
© by Christine O’Brien
There had been weeks of gray skies.
She’d get by, right?
In the meantime, dress simply
keep a positive focus
and send loving thoughts to everyone
you’ve ever met.
When memory slips in, turn away…
“Let me be your guide,” he said
as he tucked a sprig of gypsophila
beside her ear, already too familiar.
He isn’t practical she thought.
Yet, there is poetry in his eyes.
She told herself that she needed more space
but his teal eyes could too easily
dissuade her from that idea.
This relationship wasn’t going to be–
He worked in a high rise
while she had earthy values.
The night sky had to be star-studded
not city light lit.
The morning they met,
she was sitting by the sea
combing her hair
while the gentle waves teased her feet.
He told her that she looked Indian
and asked if he could braid her hair.
What type of woman allows a
strange man with teal eyes to
braid her hair?
“In honor of the new moon”
he winked leaning into her resistance.
It didn’t take very long for her to realize
that she was falling for his line, his leanness,
his too too teal eyes.
These months later,
entrenched in weeks of gray skies
she asked herself if the heartache was worth it.
She decided that it was.
Inspiration and imagination are never very far away. Get your inspiration and take the time to follow it. Write a prose poem or a prose piece.