She won’t, you know, talk about it.
She’ll discuss it, but facts are slippery
and time more relative than usual.
Excuses morph slyly and although
her laughter is self-deprecating,
there is nothing very funny ever said.
And even though it is surely all about her “me,”
it is never about her at all. Not really.
So, in a way, I suppose it is.
Thank you for reading The curious thing. I humbly appreciate your visiting the Book of Pain, and as always, I look forward to your comments.
The photograph was taken in Newport, Rhode Island at one of the great estates that pepper the place. For more photography, please visit the Book of Bokeh.
Photograph, poem and notes © 2014 by John Etheridge; all rights reserved. The poem and accompanying notes are licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 Unported License. This applies to all original written work found on this site, unless noted otherwise. The attribution claimed under the license is: © 2014 by John Etheridge, https://bookofpain.wordpress.com. The photograph is not licensed for use or reproduction in any way, unless so granted in writing by the copyright owner.