narrow palm
My soft damp hair flowed with the wind,
'thad been released despite being pinned.
A robin bird flew to the front of me,
She wanted a gift, almost immediately.
Through the leathers of my handbag I pulled out a mask,
then in my mind there was only one task.
I pulled my hair back and tied it with a bobble.
Then wandered through the grass and began to dobble.
My eye enlightened when I saw a bling.
''This one is perfect'' 'Twas a perfect thing.
In my (once-held) hands I picked a flower,
I skipped back to the robin, even though I'd cower.
The mask remained as I was shy,
I placed down the bait and breathed a sigh
of relief.
My belief.
The robin.
Isn't sobbin.
Flower taken.
Unmistaken.
Once she flew off with my gift,
I took my mask off in a shift.
I skipped along the path in the park,
like a kid at Christmas; and as happy as a lark.
My eyes peeped to see, a different robin that let
my heart feel guilty, I'd rather forget
the robin of my past, the robin of my nightmares
my skip turned walk, I went along with my affairs.
I turned the doorknob in my dazzling home,
where I unfortunately spend my time alone.
To grab the towel is all it took,
A nice cold shower that left me shook.
I ran my fingers through my coarse hair,
I looked at my reflection to stop and stare.
The heart of mine is left in black,
Knowing that my robin will never love me back.
opaque ivy
candid fulcrum
