Victory?

You thought it a victory to bed me but

what was that feather on your pillow when you

woke with me gone, wondering

what bird it might be from and how it

got in through closed windows.

 

And I walk away, putting my

fingers to my nose until your

feral smell slowly fades

into the prickly scent of bay.

 

Puzzled, you shrug into

yesterday’s clothes emblazoned with that

annoying tick that is nowadays and

I suppose forever

my name.

 

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Comments

  • thesewordsiwrite2012  On February 17, 2016 at 10:05 am

    This is smashing! Love the tone and the message. Thank you for sharing this!

    • fridayam  On February 17, 2016 at 6:47 pm

      Thank you! That is such a kind comment 🙂 I often worry my mythology poems go right over some people’s heads 😉 My best wishes to you.

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