Searching for the perfect ten
that I know will no longer fit
or if it did
would be so modern
I would lack the courage to wear it.
Needing a new game to play
that isn’t lonely solitaire
other people’s mail
or standing just to stare.
When I am not with you nor can be
when you have gone, vanished without trace
and no slightest
no photograph to remind me of your face.
And I am just deserted by friend and foe.
For lonely months that stretch in endless time.
for unspoken conversations
writing sad poetry that does not scan or rhyme.
When all the world is crazy happy
making demands of sun and sand and sea
I do not laugh
or sing repetitive songs
I curl up, introvert, alone just me.