99poems/orioles

Three female orioles in the tree,
the first to land lingers
on her branch when the
others fly away.

I’m tempted to compare
it to what we do,
the diminishing things
they say about women,
like “ladies day out.”
But I can’t do that.
I think of women talking over tea,
the way my sister still says ladies,
and women in the South of France
my friend described,
who gathered together
to wash their clothes,
fields of sheets drying,
all the women singing.

8/17/99