Galatea Steps Down
Grief showers
chilled her
to immobility
there in the middle
of a crowded city sidewalk.
I’m lost without him.
Don’t know where I’m going.
No medical emergency,
it was a sorrow spell
where street sounds
turned to hissing
a static in the senses.
I cannot move…
…like a statue…like Galatea.
Now, for this living Galatea
there was no longer
a Pygmalion
to smooth her into life
with his strong, warm hands.
Is this what dying is?
Am I invisible?
“WATCH WHERE YOU’RE GOING, LADY!”
The rough jostle
shook her mind
back to awareness,
and city sounds and colors
merged to coherency.
She resumed walking.
Steps…just my steps.
I’m taking steps…
down from the pedestal.
Bonnie Marshall
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