Mocking Freedom In Cagey Avenues?
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[Time is a dressmaker specializing in alterations.]-Faith Baldwin
Fallen leaves of Autumn
Covered the old nursery road
and I pick them one by one
into my pushcart!
Nursery was closed for vacation
A squirrel rested on a bench
and the swings were chained?
It's really hard for me to climb
The Post-office hill
with this nagging sciatica pain?
But I have to send this letter
to my faraway unseen friend.
Rusty coins not sufficient
for the postage it seemed
and do they accept my letter
without a stamp?
Anyway I remember the few lines
of my new poem in the letter
and I murmured to myself
on my way back;
'I saw my bald head
in the shattered mirror
and I threw the toothless comb
into the nearby muddy river.'
To my deceased loving Mother!
(Still through your far seeing eyes I see the puzzling life Mom.)
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