The Poetess

The spotlights on the stage did not shine on her. Magazine covers were not adorned with her name. Publishers did not line up to meet her politely and generously — as they would stand in line for hours for “Madonna” — and the doors the stubborn doors stubbornly stayed shut on her; on a woman — the lancet of poetry in her veins — awake beside the cradle of love’s newborn murmuring a lullaby; backstage...