Poetry can be a bad influence (ask Paolo and Francesca)

by Marilyn Kallet on June 11, 2011

When

 

When the low heavy sky hangs down like a cover, you’re in Auvillar

Without your spouse.  Dante’s on his way.

 

Ladies of a certain age compete for the clothes line.

Show off gleaming copper pots.

 

Tea and flan, wet wash.  Dante’ s

not your concern.

 

Beatrice tends him,

pats dry.

 

Push past your fears, Francesca!

Seize the line while Madame snores.

 

Twist your fingers through Dante’s damp curls.

He’ll know what hit him.

 

Then run run run under grey skies.

You have feet, orthotics.

 

Sadness that rivals rain.

Blue clothespins

 

Can’t clasp your tidy life

If you’re in the wind

 

With him.

 

 

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