She Doesn't Come to My Blog Anymore
She doesn’t come here anymore
but I think of her now that turtles
have taken to sunning on logs again
and philosophers are back in lost cafes
filling up the chairs of loneliness with
husks of poems that drifted out to sea.
She doesn’t come here anymore
tho I see her over at others’ sites
drinking fine wine and living it up,
her head tossing around those
fluffy Shirley Temple curls she knows
I’d gladly trade my straightness for.
Why, I haven’t seen her here since
Harry Truman wore those socks
and Bette Davis danced fandango!
What happened?
Did I drizzle one too many or too few
x’s and o’s along the blogging trail?
Did I mistake her for another?
Forgot to double-check a comment
posted one day, my words to her lying
on the ocean’s floor, still unread?
Whatever happened, if you see her
say hello. She might be in Tangiers.
Or out chopping wood with the axe
she learned to grind far too young,
when all the other kids were out running
through the sprinkler spray and laughing.
Jannie Funster
Posted over on her site Jannie Funster
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