The nights have
been somber around here
they are filled with
apparitions of
longing and worry

So I write poems
with a surgical knife
to cut at the wound
of my sullen cries

I should be stronger
than this
superwoman in reverse

the cobwebs come and
multiply around me
as if I were an
abandoned building
while the shadows have their
own wicked agenda

as I flutter around
like the milquetoast girl
from yesterday

I'm bullied by
quarantined nights
then saved by the morning
Sun of my resurrection

Candlelit dinners
are meant to impress
I've seen the show
'Keeping Up Appearances'
way too many times
to acquire that knowledge
but candles are filters for
aged women like me
the glow softens the face
then I begin to look like
a 'Star Trek' cameo shot
with vaseline smeared
all over the lens
To be young and
wrinkle-less again
would be my dream
just without the dumb that
comes with it