Week of Apr 25, 2016


For Lynn S.

It began with rhyme
and you thought you knew
where this was headed

the regularity of it
the rhythm a comfort.
Then the rhyme

disappeared, leaving you dangling
wanting the familiar
wishing for the expected.

That was the point
or part of it—that life is like that
sometimes, a rug pulled from under—

and poetry only reflection
…or reaction.

Margaret Dubay Mikus
© 2010

From Thrown Again into the Frazzle Machine

Back to Home →

Share this poem

Leave a comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.