Artist Alone
S
Susan Lacovara
0
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It is not with the sadness,
Nor madness,
Of Van Gogh
That I exclude myself
On winter days, in February...
Neither is it with the passion
Of Mc Kuen' s loneliness
That prompts me to feed
The returning gray cat...
Surely it isn't the same
Broken hearted heaviness
That took Dali' s spirit
Makes me question why
I surrender
To the paleness
Of my room, unattached
To another's heart....
Tis merely my own poet's prison
That paints my starry starry night.
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