For We Write Poems prompt: Revisionist Writing
About The Dead Woman and The Dream of Red Shoes
The dead woman couldn’t see her feet, of course.
The dead woman couldn’t feel them, either.
So, she dreamed. She dreamed of dancing through eternity.
The dead woman danced with a cave man.
She dreamed of dancing with a pauper, a prince, and a political appointee,
a chef, a truck driver, an accountant, a research biologist, and a university professor.
But, none of them noticed because she was a dead woman.
The dead woman laughed, she sang, she threw herself into the dance. She moved.
She knew she was no more than a fleeting whisper, momentary vapor, a slip of air
to be brushed away with a flick of a finger, a shake of the head.
The dead woman went right on dancing, trying to be whatever was needed.
She so wanted to be something more than invisible, more than dead.
More About The Dead Woman and The Dream of Red Shoes
The dead woman dreamed through eternity and into the next, until she dreamed of red shoes.
The color excited her, spoke of passion, pursuit, put-off, prolonged dreams finding fulfillment.
She dreamed of sneakers, velvet slippers, flats and strappy stilettos, died leather moccasins, and hard
vinyl crocs, all of them red: red like blood, like living.
The dead woman dreamed that all women everywhere wore red shoes.
She dreamed of maids and matriarchs dancing their dreams to fruition.
The dead woman dreamed through two eternities, until the Universe was filled with laughing women,
all moving to fulfill their individual dreams in red shoes.
The dead woman was satisfied, happy with her dreaming creation.
Elizabeth Crawford 1/11/11
Process Notes: The first dead woman poem I wrote, was about the red shoes. I did not stick completely to form, was playing with it. But, was never completely satisfied with what I had done. Have wanted to go back and redo it, if not completely to form, closer to that. Then I saw today’s prompt and knew it was time. Went back and reread the first poem and found what I wanted to do. Realized that although in that poem, I had begun by saying the dead woman invented red shoes, I didn’t explain what that might be, or mean. So, this is my revisit to the first poem, and my “reseeing” of that thought process. The first poem can be found here: