Saturday, April 4, 2009


Her heart beats like a small bird about to be
a nest so surely hidden by the thinness of Spring.
The moon is once again setting fiercely into a sky
its face truly made of cheese, winks once.

He sneers at her from across the room
and she wishes to be somewhere else

Maybe the moon, with all her tidal pulls
will release a life so difficult?
Outside, she hears the first geese
returning in vees their cries tell her
that everything should be green.

She remember when she used to care
and turns her back
frozen to forgotten seasons.

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