Red-Haired Woman with a Sponge

Why does this have to happen like a metronome?
What's wrong with me? I fall apart. I turn away,
And leave a note which says, "I'm sorry. I know
I'm not good for you." A full-grown man, all
False bravado, swinging one way, making jokes,
Then swinging backward, shrinking toward the
Floor, a broken jelly jar. Then she appears and
Cleans the mess. She tells me we still are
All right, and sends me on the upward stroke,
A gentle push, and I'm left thinking, how is she
So strong and stable; what is wrong with me?



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 49 times
Written on 2015-05-17 at 13:48

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