|
|
the poet said,
'when the flowers in the glass have wilted,
i shall take my leave of you'
in his attempt at cleverness,
he outwitted himself,
and i outwitted him:
the flowers
were
silk,
given me by a friend
years ago
the poet stayed
for many years
until one day in housecleaning
i threw the dusty flowers out
the next day
the poet
was gone
i love a man who keeps a promise
Back to the Bookshelf