Conversing With Elizabeth I
by Tina Hacker
I’ve heard your voice for decades
from the throat of history,
but I never knew if you heard mine.
I’ve wondered if ghosts at Windsor Castle
listened to you laugh and sing.
You loved songs, especially those
composed by your father. Many
said you could leap higher than anyone
when you danced. As lofty above the floor
as above courtiers you teased.
I’ve read countless books about you,
begged you to reveal
the reality behind the words.
We’ve smiled like twins when scholars
absolved your mother.
Smirked when authors applied poultices
to your reign.
Are you still listening to me now
or am I mad as I continue
tossing my life your way?
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