tightening her robe
against december’s chill
she counts out all her morning pills
at 35
two strokes
a career
two failed marriages
critically ill babies
a dead lover
an old house
on the edge of
a dying town
she’d done alotta living
by local standards
but
she’d yet
to see the sun in patagonia
have a stew in ireland
dance beneath the moon
on a paris side street
or
that ultimate destination
love
she’d yet to be really loved
a silent vow
then and there
given the chance
to make that journey
she’d pack lightly
all excess baggage left behind
bringing
only roses
for her hair
2 comments:
I'd say you know exactly how to pack for love
I can almost hear it approaching now, ready to claim you as a most cherished prize
Remember what Tina Turner said "What's Love But a 2nd Hand Emotion." Next time, marry for Money $$$$$$$
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