Rebellious and Eccentric

I’ve talked about my husband’s great great aunt before. I got back into her poetry today and found this:

Closet Poet

Hide! Hide! Let nobody see
Rebellious, eccentric, irreverent Me.
I do not, I cannot, I will not conform.
I dwell on the outskirts of civilized norm;
And sometimes in nightmares I hear a voice crowing
“Pardon me, Dear, but your lunacy’s showing.”

I have this image in my mind of this 1930’s woman declaring to whoever was listening (clearly not too many people since she calls herself a closet poet),”Hey, you, this is me. Take it or leave it”. But then she’s secretly worried, wondering, “Hm, is it too much?” Feels familiar.

5 replies to “Rebellious and Eccentric

    1. u know, they are always are!
      my great grandmother lived till she was 104.. had all her wits about her right till the end..the only thing she was losing was her hearing.. she was a funny woman!

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