NaPoWriMo 4/4/16: The Soft Shoe Shuffle

Here is the lady whose teeth are always lost.

They’re wheeling her in through the door in a scarf and nightie.

Did they take her outside in April dressed like that?

But she seems joyous: she’s seen real flowers this morning;

Not the crêpe-made sort set down amid cotton-wool sheep

And a splash of cobalt blue.

When I get older, losing my hair… she sings, in passing,

And I’m catching that evil glimmer in her eye.

Many years from now… I hear someone-like-me reply.

The mouth folds in for a smile, a purse lacking coins.

Will you still be sending me a valentine…

Outside I don’t do singing; I do in here, it seems.

Birthday greetings, bottle of wine?

old woman

I don’t dance either: she’ll have me doing the soft-shoe-shuffle next

And I really don’t want to fit into this land of dreams.

5 thoughts on “NaPoWriMo 4/4/16: The Soft Shoe Shuffle

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