Inner reaches of Pride
She was at the centre with crowd milling about her.
Giving a 4-liner speech,
On In-depend-ence Day, as she calls it.
Words tumbling out through her sweet, limpid voice,
consigning personality to the unsung hero featured
in her speech;
a woman, a warrior, a stuff of legend
completing the ordeal.
I come out of it skewered.
Skewered my pride with love, she did.
Distorting it well and good.
Pride was pictured a certain shape in my head
she contorted it into a
Body burning, throat clogging pride.
Pride arising from knowledge;
what my 5 year old did
could not in a possible way be reciprocated by a
5 year old ME.
Just memory meeting pride.
I took back an indelible souvenir.