The bald patch looked bigger
Back-combing those last three strands
was becoming much more challenging.
He picked up a mirror and turned
first this way and then that
A little gel might work.
Ten minutes later, he lay 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 flowerpot
A Persian
He rescued
from a couple of dancing black Russian 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 few herring
complete with bones
and then…then he would convince her to talk.
Published by
C. S. De Dona
Author, Poet, Photographer, domestic violence survivor, and naturalized immigrant, Cornelia is currently an Arts and Letters member of The Southwest Florida Branch 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 in 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 C. S. De Dona