Friday, November 23, 2012

Toll Taken



She peers into mirror,
placid surface meeting stare,
blink for blink.

There's nothing she can do.

Her season, a lunar vacancy.

There's nothing she can do.

Promenades, packed in cobweb;
valentines, jarred and shelved.

Once, she tried to expunge her past.

Table turned, it's rid itself of her.

On the vesper side, lights flash.