She stays in a small town
Near the river Danube
Living on dainty food
She’d like to live alone
Be sweetly independent
But at times she’ll be glad
For a spouse, she should
Appreciate –
Not order around.
He stays in a tiny kitchen
Where he writes and paints
While she uses the bedsitter
Conducting her idle living.
He’ll be glad to work alone
And have peace to reflect
And write.
She’ll scream at times
Reign in his cynical remarks
That shake her elfin body
She interrupts him often
Brewing coffee plunger style.
He’ll meet a deadline for
A novel writing month
About an artist in a fight
For life and death for his
Great canvas.
And even if she mocks his
Efforts to write
He prevails
His sole freedom nobody
Can ever fence in or state
As being a silly game.
In the end this sad life
Will go on bearing bitter
Fruit: For her a piecemeal
Strip of looks and health
For him the bitter cup
Shaped by his poetry.
zoltanzelan
ZJG-POetry’17.
my friend in Athens once wrote back: A tear for ZZ.