there are no mirrors in this house
the walls are blank
and so her spouse
her eyes reflect
like molten spheres
her dark neglect
her sudden fears
laid out in sets
like coal black tears
to come

as is her way
she turns her head
her children play
the flowers are dead
their twiggy stems
have strewn her bed
like alpha dread
when all is said
and done

there’s nothing left
to say or do
we’re all bereft
the children too
the stars have wept
the moon has set
the end is yet
to come

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About riverwriter

Poet, playwright, duplicate bridge player, website designer, cottager, husband, father, grandfather, former athlete, carpenter, computer helper for my friends, theatre designer, backstage polymath, retired teacher of highschool English, drama, art, a baritone singer in a barbershop quartet, who knows what else? wordcurrents is on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/wordcurrents/ Doug also has a Facebook page, "Incognitio", related to his novels.
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