The following poem was inspired by a photo on a cross-country teammate’s dresser a million years ago. To this day it remains one of my favorites.
The Photograph (2/3/1998)
She believes she is beautiful
the way her eyes avoid
the gaping stares of
strangers.
She believes she is beautiful
when the wind lifts her hair
off the nape of her
neck.
She believes she is beautiful
trapped inside wood and glass
faking the stretch of her
lips.