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Unfinished (?)
even spring has post-partum depression:
a flower spoke of her mother.
quotes, falling with the rain
(from the toungues of beggars
rich men laugh
and die in ignoance)
(it was a just-off haiku
from the czar of my own private Russia)
you were a gambler
of time
wasted, gained
or not yet spent
knocking at my room
with dead flowers in your fist
aw, you tried so hard
but I am not a wordly woman
or a talking woman,
or a seeing woman
or a laughing woman
or a singing woman.
poem
by
Emily Driscoll
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