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Women who dwell afar
Yes, I think after reading the posts
so steeped in mortal despair
and oozing with anguish
Like the women
slowly twisting
lilac stalks
who come and go
chatting aimlessly
of fashions
in this and that
They wander the halls
of gray anomie draped
In darkest aspect
hoping without hope
that their eye
will light
on what
they know not
They come and go
chatting and texting
of trivia
and still
they despair
Once in an age or two
they erupt with faux passion
hoping their beaux
do not dwell
on their fading charms
and withdraw
as they must
Languid and hopeless
they will linger
through eternity
frustrated
and unloved
poem
by
Michael Pruchnicki
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