Karen Schnurstein
The woman’s breasts
were large, and
I watched with interest
when she placed
both hands
over them
while she bounced
through the children’s hopscotch
mapped onto the cement walkway
in blue chalk.
A light wind ruffled her
sandy hair and mint green blouse
as she completed
the game.
That night, in bed, I thoughtfully
rested my own hands over my aging breasts,
something I’d never done before.
“How much of me has belonged
to others?” I wondered.
And my breasts felt suddenly
like they were mine.
Karen Schnurstein is a budding poet whose work has appeared in print and online publications. She holds a B.A. in Creative Writing and resides in Indiana. This poem first appeared in Edition 11 of Steel Jackdaw Magazine.