She had braids, acne and an old soul
when I placed my palm at her table.

She said, "You will take a strange journey,
wearing coconut pudding shoes
with banana-peel laces and piecrust
tongues."

She did not return my grin, and I saw
her ears had sprung big, round hoops
that jangled as she went on.  "You will
wear hard wings on this journey, wings
you can detach and manipulate

into a free-standing ironing board. An iron
will hang from its cord tied about your neck.
You will use it to keep your shirt ruffles
pressed and fresh."

Her eyes crinkled then
into small sunrise arches of shine.  "Ah,
and I see you will use it to undo
wrinkles from the shirts of other sojourners.
 
You will not always succeed. In fact,
you will often fail, coconut flakes
will sprinkle like lice upon many successes
you manage along the way."

"Is that all? Is that everything?" I asked
of this woman whose braids had come undone,
gone blue-lilac and frizzed.

"I do, I do, I do see a warning:
No matter how hungry you may become
do not partake of the piecrust tongues;
without them, your laces will come undone,
and you’ll walk right out of your sweetness,

still saddled with hardboard wings
and a steam iron that singes the flesh
every time you breathe."

She is holding my palm even now,
tenderly waiting for questions
as I study my cold bare feet.

Lynn:

Greetings, I enjoy the way the 'ingredients' in this exchange between wayfarer and soothsayer get 'mixed up', just as the "predictions" with its "warning(s)" leave the former bewildered. 

On the eye-ride, it may serve well to go with "  " when the palm reader speaks in lieu of the italics presently employed.  Alternatively, you could shift the 'quote sections' an inch (+/-) or so toward the right to 'set them off'.  That would create a 'call & response' visual.

Nicely done.

Carol Elizabeth

The eye ride with italics on the computer screen did make letters, what, sort of itchy.  I changed to " " -- also made some line break adjustments a cut a couple words.  Thanks much for looking.  Lynn

I worked in a kid's shoestore 5 years, and those shoes wouldn't have stayed on the shelves very long.  I could see selling a pair to Carmen Miranda.

Did you hear what the palm-reader told the lonely, lonely guy?  (First, she had to part the hair.)  She said, "Oh, I see you're going blind!"

I like how your palmreader keeps morphing into more of a gypsy with each glance up.  The dreamy bizarreness puts one into the right nonframe of mind.

At the end, are the feet bare because the shoes are yet to be acquired, or is the fortune-teller dyslexic?  No need to iron out an answer, the question is rhetorical.

I love this poem.

I thank you for loving it, S. Bailey.  I'd be hard-pressed to iron out answers . . .  ;)  The poem was my response to poet.org's April "write a poem a day" challenge to write a poem that begins "you will take a strange journey."  It did begin there, but as imagination took hold and the seer became, I guess, part of my aging self, I had to go back and start her off visually younger.  Glad this worked for you.  I'm often unsure.  Thanks.  Lynn

Lovely, this - the moves from the real to the surreal. A delight.

milner

I'm smiling!!!!

Mag

Solid read, Lynn.  Congrats on being chosen for the feature.

D

You should see the surprised smile I'm wearing!  Big smile.  Big surprise.  Thanks.  lynn