the short long life
of a lovelorn tulip
of course she had no regrets
she’d wear that red dress again
if she could find it
rubbing ankles in the dark
and smiling smugly at the waiter
with his tray of sweets for the sweet
thinking he knew
the definition
of divine
and the whispers she couldn’t quite catch
shuffling by from two tables over
grief and apology
perhaps
or something smaller
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A poem a day for 30 days, in honor of National Poetry Month. Day 27
I’m participating in NaPoWriMo, and Writer’s Digest Poem a Day Challenge.
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