For the Living (my late elegy poem)

for Angie

it’s true  my first thought

was it could have been me

I thought I could transform

it  the horror and not know it like

the Palace Hotel and Goldie’s

and six-inch yellow heels

(I loved those shoes)

but finally there isn’t anything left

to say really   to do  only that it slips

through   the knowing

like a knife and at least each time

I’m a little less surprised

at how cold

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3 thoughts on “For the Living (my late elegy poem)

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