"The belt" inside painted bowl I bought in Mata Ortiz, Mexico
© C.C. Brooks

 

Thanks to Dragon Poet Review for publishing this poem in the recently released Winter 2016 edition.  
https://dragonpoetreview.com/

 

 

THE BELT

bought a silver belt buckle in Taos

a long time ago 
the size of a playing card
a Zia sun cold hammered to the four directions
and turquoise the color of desert sky
it sat in a drawer for many years
without the right belt
until one day there it was at the Goodwill store 
time worn and lissome
from years of defying gravity
holding up Myron’s pants
his name imprinted on the back
expanding a little each year
to the last notch
a friend said she once had a name imprinted on her back
from her dad’s tooled leather belt
but it would only last a week
changing color with time
red-blue-black
green-yellow
until it was gone
unlike the permanent fear she had of men