Friday, May 14, 2010

What the end of this cold feels like


Un-pretty lady,
café table, circa 1910 –
low on acumen –
personifies demise:

a history of sighs;
cannot fathom
what to do with life.
She will not be a wife.

Isn’t bright.
Sits without a hope.
Who is there to be?
Surely can’t be she.

Go ahead and grope
for any better
metaphor or trope.
Humanity.




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