Her poem posted on May 9, seems to follow up on one posted
two days earlier, written about but not for our temporary boss.
The central metaphor compares him to a prize she has been
after since early one and finally achieve, a prize curled up against her,
alluding to fire encounters when he had seemed ruthless to her, and she could
not tell what it meant, if anything at all.
This may well be reading too much into the poem and yet it
seems to verify what I had suspected after seeing his book on her bed.
Like most of her poems I have read so far, the craftsmanship
is stunning, the metaphor of a prize well-earned and the physical representation
of an idea of her prize curled up against her, as well as the weary tone one
might expect as the result of some great competition, the athlete after having
achieved her goal, rest wearily, perhaps worn out from the effort, but clearly
well-sated.
The poem suggests that this was a goal that started on an
early encounter when she suspected something behind his gruff reprimand, a glimpse
of some attraction she eventually succeeded in bringing to the surface, but not
without a struggle that wore her out. There is a sense of self-gratification in
this poem, of having accomplished what she set out to do, winning a prize that
curls up beside her even as she thinks back to when it started, a weary reflection
on it all, bringing them into close contact, perhaps even tenderness.
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