They won't let her disappear, even if they don't want her with them.
They will tie her up with her leg to a rope
that once flew a kite.
She will fly over the house, tossed,
wrapped in straw and rags
lost, abandoned in distant airports.
When they'll remember her
they will pull the end of the rope tied to the chair that stands in the corner of the dining room
she will feel the rope in her ankle
and remember she is still with them, still theirs.
flying woman 1995 – 97
mixed media on wood 60 X 40