The bald patch was getting bigger
back combing those last three strands
was becoming more and more challenging
he picked up a mirror and turned
first this way and then that
a little gel might work,
ten minutes later he laid down the comb
and backed out of the mirrored turret
it was starting to get drafty
She pretended to be asleep
smelled of smoke and lies
a sad little feline
who had pooped in his flower pot
a black and white tabby
he had rescued
from a couple of dancing black bears
addicted to quail
both of which had been extremely hungry
that gray morning
a few days back
He would make nice
carry on with the charade
a while longer
order up coffee
a couple of herring
complete with bones
and then…then he would convince her to talk.
Like this:
Like Loading...
Published by
Cornelia DeDona
Author, Poet, Photographer, domestic violence survivor, and naturalized immigrant Cornelia is currently an Arts and Letters Member-At-Large of The National League Of American Pen Women.
Cornelia lived in Kaneohe, Hawaii, for thirty-six years. Also, seven years in the Mid-Hudson Valley of New York. She now resides in North Fort Myers, Florida.
Her poems and photography are published in print, online, and Rain Bird, a literary and art journal of the University of Hawaii's Windward Community College (2008-2013).
In 2013, Cornelia received Rain Bird's Kolokolea Poetry Prize for her poem, "Speaking French."
In 2016 her chapbook "Hawaiian Time," entered in the National League of American Pen Women's Vinnie Ream contest, was awarded third place in their inaugural multi-discipline category.
View all posts by Cornelia DeDona
