Laura Wingfield

A NOTE: This poem is an ode to a fictitious character: Laura Wingfield, from Tennessee Williams' play The Glass Menagerie. I warn you now, it has a few "spoilers" if you plan on reading or seeing the play.

Laura Wingfield, so beautiful, in a way except the beauty doesn’t stay it shifts and dances away like rainbows through a prism Laura Wingfield, your mother’s dreams are fake reality is of it what you make but it seems your heart only shines when another’s light you take Laura Wingfield, I could weep for what’s been done you let your leg block out the sun you knew society shunned what’s not the same it’s all a game yet in your leg was beauty, was a difference, was you but society’s indifference made glass into a zoo Dearest Laura, though your unicorn lies broken on the floor it may be you’ve earned a lesson, just perhaps you’ll find there’s more to life than waiting for your mother’s dreams to come alive one day and you’ll leave the house, you’ll sing again, you’ll start to find your way But even if you aren’t real, and you don’t come out to play, I won’t judge you too harshly and I’ll love you anyway. Mark Burton Wednesday, August 22, 2001, 1:47 A.M.