befriend

a hard task
half a century to learn
befriending myself
it seems obvious
this is a good idea
except for old voices
that clatter
and jangle inside

I pick them apart
mom: quiet down
straighten your skirt
listen to your father
dad: ask your mother
she knows best
never,
girl, you fly

the voices still murmur
faint now
I tug on jeans
give a nod in tribute
and walk on by

2023 ©Amrita Skye Blaine
I’m writing a poem a day. These are drafts—not final versions.