When women sit in coffee-scented rooms
and sing their secrets,
joy and pain form ribbons
that knit them each to each,
and they learn to love themselves
for who they are:
creamy roses, thorny cactus,
wildflowers in a Mason jar.
Ideas circle in the air,
touch their words with mercy
and you can hear their lives croon
like wind in the pines,
the sound of feathers settling.
BIO: Jean Hendrickson retired after 31 years of social work and can be found sifting sand, putting meat tenderizer on jellyfish stings and talking with everyone else who walks the beaches of the Chesapeake Bay. Her prose has been published in the Reader's Digest, Family Circle Magazine, The Daily Press (of the Virginia Peninsula) and Powhatan Review. Her poems have appeared in Beloit Review, Powhatan Review, Crone Chronicles and Portfolio Magazine.
You can reach her at firstname.lastname@example.org