Mary E-A. K. Remaniak Poetry

Something different in the rain
That slowly beats upon my face.
Something changing, never the same
In the droplets I now taste.

Pearls marred by streaks of pink.
Pearls with enamel worn off in streaks.
Pearls, all rare and unique in beauty
But rough to the touch
And sour to the taste.

Lightly perfumed flour dusted
Over rose petals once cream now peach.
A spray of nourishment upon their leaves
And left to dwell in peace.

Black spot threatens and mars perfection
But acid pearls are never harmed.
Their own vinegar complexion
Takes wear from many other storms.

Rubies smeared across the entrance
To the cave where pearls all live
Hiding there the imperfections
Which society tells us we can't forgive.

Polish and scrubbing to make it whole
The pearls endure yet still are told
That acid pearls deserve this pain
And the only cleansing is from the rain.

Black paint upon the pollen poured
Brown and yellow paint abhorred.
One coat, two coats, maybe three
It all depends on what they can see.

Black and white do more justice
But colored roses are high in favor
And so the pearls quietly retreat
While colorization reigns supreme.

Poet: Mary E-A. K. Remaniak