Why is the day so cruel?

Mocking with its’ sun–

Through every crevice/

Miserable Sleeping Beauty’s room:

A beam brightly spun!

On the drapery it drips:

A waterfall,

song of cascading.

The golden mirror’s reflection:

A dance of shadows,

from flowers perfectly bloomed.

A glass perfume holder, blue,

is a kaleidoscope:

Diamond-shaped enthusiasm,

cast on an otherwise empty wall.

Why…

Does it not know–

Hope is out the window,

with the birds, singing,

a neighbor whistling;

As he drops seeds

and watches for grass to grow!

Not here…

This is a broken heart.

Despair.

Tired.

Day to be reckoned–

Tomorrow could be motivating,

to something:

A kiss and a promise.

Me.

And for a moment I am lifted,

to grasp the possibilities…

But the forecast calls for rain–

 

Maria Pisciotta Dellaporte Copyright 2013 All Rights ReservedImage

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