I’m unfit to be a wife again I long to close my eyes / find an intimate darkness / to enhance feeling / one of those hugs myhusband was famous for / all enveloping / with tenderness / I stand in the kitchen / talk to him eachmorning / sipping my coffee / though he’s
Lament of a Failed Villanelle I’m part villanelle always looping around,repeating myself. I move forward in fitsand starts, get caught in the unsteady rhythmof one-step-forward-two-steps-back. Withoutthe sexy sway of a cha-cha-cha ora tango’s grace. When I tell a story,I sashay around the facts, take listenerson a long promenade, rehashing for emphasis,sometimes forget where I’m going.No
