The Sundance Wives: How You Remind Me (poem) by Sage Sweetwater on AuthorsDen

The Sundance Wives: How You Remind Me
by Sage Sweetwater → (All Poetry by Sage Sweetwater)
Rated "PG13" by the Author.

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What's your name, boy? Pony Girl's orphan emotions Pinto. Rifle's name is Winchester, go on now an' leave us be, untrusting orphan you look just like my mama, she was pretty. Pinto, doesn't she look like mama? little sister, older brother protecting, inseparable where is your mama, Sweet Mary? My name is Pony Girl Pony Girl's orphan emotions my mama went with the cotton from the cotton wood trees to Heaven. Pinto told me God needed mama to weave cotton for the angels. tucks herself under Pinto's arm leave her be now, nothin's gonna bring her ma back. God preserved her mama's name in bay leaves under the laurel tree, askin' me to take care of her daughter. I'll shoot anybody, an' that includes a preacher, childhood scars you can't outrun a ghost, Pinto. I'm a ghost scarred with a campfire heated broken bottle. You shoot me, you'll have to run like an Apache pinto pony. Wasn't she your mama too? childhood scars no she wasn't—my pa was with a woman before her. She born me an' got smart, run off with another woman. Pa married another an’ they had Sweet Mary. I got scars. That same campfire you’re talkin’ about—it’s the same fire I burned my pa’s razor strap in. more childhood scars Pony Girl, I heard the razor strap scream in the fire just like Pinto when our pa whipped him. Pa said Pinto was a bastard. hea, it happens in the late 1800s Sweet Mary! I’ll wash your mouth out with soap when we get some! I told you never to say that word! Girls don’t say those words. Now mind your manners. a 15-year-old on the trail alone with three orphans I'm sorry, Pinto, I miss mama. cries of the orphan, how you remind me Stevie Boy hugs Sweet Mary. Don’t c—c—cry, Sweet Mar—Mar—Mary. Maybe Po—Pony Gir—Girl can be your ma—ma—mama Copyright 2.12.2010 Ms. Sage Sweetwater, firebrand lesbian novelist

Reviewed by Kate Burnside

Reviewed on February 14, 2010

How you remind me, how you remind me. This is poignant, Sage. How can we forget our childhood scars? Don't we all see that we are the same scarred child at 53 we were at 3? The child is always father to the man and mother to the woman; we can spend our whole lives trying to eradicate the "sins" of our past, moreoftenthannot visiting them unwittingly on those who follow on. Like a rubber ball bouncing, what goes around comes around. Likewise can we each console the other in our grief because we, too, have shared it and see our mirror image. Under the Western leather breeches is the same Raw Hide. And a defiant tattoo. xx

Reviewed by Amber Moonstone

Reviewed on February 13, 2010

I have just gotten finished costume designing a show "Barnum The Musical" and it was set in 1870's...I can relate to this poem on many levels...Nicely done, my dear and I cannot wait to know your progress on your project!

Much peace, love, and light,
Amber "V"

Reviewed by Susan de Vegter

Reviewed on February 12, 2010

These emotions are so vivid with your characters. You are a phenomenol woman Sage. You always amaze me.

Blessings and love,
Susan

Reviewed by jude forese

i just hope she uses ivory soap, it's pure ;)

good to rereread you again, Sage ,,,

Reviewed by Karen Vanderlaan

such swee, sad and raw emotion-beautifully told

Reviewed by John Flanagan

A one-acter plays out before us in sharp focus, and, to me, Sage, there is great hurt and pain in these sketches.

John