When he asked her to stay,
when he pleaded and begged,
when he reasoned with logic
she just stood by the door,
briefly smiled with her lips
and, in a gesture of finality
slowly, with delicious sterility,
rotated her oval Madonna's head
left to right, silently, beautifully.
There was no need to read her lips.
Nice scene you've painted here. Goodbyes are difficult whether they're calm as you've described or crazy. Nice one. Sincerely, Mary
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Short good-byes are the best.