Thursday, May 24, 2012

Tribute to the Thornbirds...

A young girl folds bridal garments
and piles them into the drawer.
Her gaze shifts
a thousand miles away to a photo
on top of the bureau.
Its unframed edges have yellowed
and cracked like the nicotine that stains lips.
She wonders what her life would have been like
if only her friend had asked.

An old woman she looks after wears a lacy hat.
The young girl laughs at the old man’s reaction.
“What was it like the first time you kissed him,” she asks the old lady?
“It was like sitting under a tropical waterfall and discovering
a secret cavern behind the rock wall,” the old man smiles.
“What was it like for you.” The old lady asked?
“When my tongue met his, it was like sticking it into a
bucket of roses and getting torn up by the thorns,” the young girl responded.
“What is it with you,” the old man pries?
“I’ll never have anything that I want,” the young girl cries.

A life of discontent continues
the day after the honeymoon.

---William James

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