PORTRAIT-FUELED PEOPLE
Yes, all the mannerisms of gold and glory
can pass for fame and beauty,
at least for a while.
And then December's descent begins rolling in :
subtle breakdown, the frame and carcass erode,
the suppleness
disappears, and those new shoes
you beheld become rotten and sour with
wear.
The Great Wheel is coming back. Surely it will
pick you up anew,
as another go-round awaits.
Enjoy the smile before it too fades.
-
I look about, only to find out you are in
some Egypt again : as ancient as one of those
old tombs as well. I suppose, all this could
do you good. There is never any mistaking
of solace for cure, or grace for solitude.
The camel glides surreptitiously slow
over both the sand and the pavement.
Some little man holds the rein.
-
At the card, on the back, in the corner,
you have written something I cannot
decipher. A scrawl, a secret message,
something as old and small as time itself.
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