No My Love: Not Anna, Not the Count

Thirsting for
Anna finds her Count
Flamboyant, shallow
Holds him at bay momentarily
then plunges
into the flames

We are not Anna and
the Count

No my love
We are love postponed
and then found

The 18 year old
and the land owner

One deep, thoughtful beyond her years
Washing the dying limbs of a consumptive brother
together with his “saved” woman

The other
uncomfortable with wealth
Riches he says –
or might –
just pieces of paper
In Love with his people
as he harvests with them
Shoulders brushing

Anna dies
The Count ?

No, my love
Not Anna, not the Count
These are not us

We are the other two
Me, you
Caring for each other
for others
All, our people,

28 April, 2013


About teserak1

I am Noman
Gallery | This entry was posted in Now, Poetry and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink.

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