Tuesday, July 14, 2015

Like We Were Fleur-de-Lys in France

We attempted to essay
a graceful shape today,
and we succeeded now and then.
You would curve and I would bend

and sometimes it was grand.
But mostly it got out of hand.
We generally bumped and ground:
we never found

a way to dance
like we were fleur-de-lys in France.
C’est la vie, you said to me.
I pretended to agree.


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