when I shout from the computer
banging the gong
throwing confetti from the rooftop
over small, good news
and you
and everyone else is silent
I finally
sit on the wrinkled sofa
thinking of Billy Collins, poet
he would be rolling a green glass marble and
thinking hard
about eternity
and, perhaps,
a woman he met with the same
greenglass eyes
and I
slump to the left side, next to him
defeated
with the soft hammer in my hand.


Comments: 15
Thanks, Tonia ( again!). I love your comment! My sadness and defeat was, I realize now, just that - "little frustrations" - tho a rousing cheer might've helped........
Thanks!