My Ennui
Oh, weatherman, full of disclaimers,
as if we could blame you for any of this.
And dog, you are not at fault,
nor you, bad coffee in the chipped cup.
Nor drooping tulip on the table:
a platter of orange, yellow pollen fallen
on the wood. No, not furnace still on
in April, not lilac buds smaller than
***
new Scarlett’s fingernail, no. None
of this accounts, does it, for the dream
in which my face was suddenly older
and I stood before the mirror saying
“it’s ok, it’s ok, I’m still the same
on the inside”
because the exceptional is not so
and the ordinary face is so
and my beloved wonderment at each
day is just the stopwatch counting
as years spin past, and really.
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ReplyDeleteHi Cullen,
ReplyDeleteI really liked this piece, how you "show" us what it isn't. The concrete examples were great! At first I wanted it to end after "still the same on the inside," and realized after rereading that I really liked the sound of those last 3 lines.
Well done!