To My Last Period by Lucille Clifton

Because the year has come to an end, and I am sitting at my desk trying to reconcile the old with the new. Another beginning, starting today. But first, a proper farewell to the year that was:

To My Last Period
Lucille Clifton

well, girl, goodbye,
after thirty-eight years.
thirty-eight years and you
never arrived
splendid in your red dress
without trouble for me
somewhere, somehow.

now it is done,
and i feel just like the
grandmothers who,
after the hussy has gone,
sit holding her photograph
and sighing, wasn’t she
beautiful? wasn’t she beautiful?

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