Almost scratch

My apologies for the extended absence. Paid work has been taking up all my time. On that subject, here’s a new poem.

 

 

The woman

reflected in a window

long ago

Polished to a high sheen she

was misplaced, miscast

 

Time throws dust on

our mirages

Strips them of altered life

and the tease of

grandeur

 

Where does

that leave our

Woman in the Glass

She of the

New Image

 

Too tired to push

like Sisyphus

against an

unmovable

object?

 

Facebook poster platitudes

never let up on

an insecure number

like her

Cycling away in endless optimism

 

But those who make

plenty of green on

their efforts

know who the

Real Artists are

 

The rest of us

workshop,

workbook,

guru Twitter feed We

keep our reflections polished.

 

 

 

Tell me, tell me.