Why My Pussy Hat is Purple

Why My Pussy Hat is Purple With a Stretched Thread of Silver Silk

You know those little girls with the pink skirts,
pink sneakers that light up when the heel strikes?
See how they grab a pink hairbow or ruffled socks
of faded lavender at a certain age, a young time?

I was never one of those. Whatever pink I bloomed
darkened over decades. A rusty purple,
like dried blood, a certain pride in the scars
that turned me out to march over and over again

beside pink and big-eared cats with signs,
peace symbols, black lives matter banners.
When I put on my pointy ears, see how perfect
aging mauve seems, one tarnished thread running,

despite what women learned of hard,
I held on to lustre through my times.