Written for: The Sunday Whirl, Wordle #253
Words: tawny, mad, plaster, mist, tassel, creep, vine, chill, trap, crack, diverse, lucid
Chilled evening mist. She shrugs
tawny shoulders, as her gaze falls
on that silly statue of herself, cast
from a plaster mold. Shows cracks.
Lacks strength. Ivy vines creep
across the neck, seeming to trap
it in a choke hold. She thinks it is mad
to see herself in stone, standing
alone in this vast, diverse
garden where pink peonies,
and yellow tea roses surround
a fountain. Resin rabbits,
frogs, and turtles fill up yard.
From vegetable garden, cornstalk
tassels nod their disapproval.
Why did they think she would be pleased
to inherit this gothic house,
and enormous lifelike figure?
Must not have been lucid at the time.
Chimes ring, encouraged by wind
picking up speed. She will go
inside, pour some wine, pine
yet another night for her lost love.