“To She Whom I Love” (poem)

I wrote about you

A carved madonna

The wooden baby polished

Something missing, maybe your arm

And some paint

But beautiful, venerable

A figure of devotion maybe

A saint.

Then someone said be careful,

“negative waves” coming my way.

Solemn, I walk in the herb garden

Of our life, we two women.

Of nothings, and a man,

Is all our strife.

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