A poem a week for a year. |
| Reflections on If and Only If, only seventy-two years ago, I’d been born someone else, you’d not be reading these words. If only I’d been as rich as Croesus, the bills wouldn’t be as flocks of birds. iPhone-ly they wander, in strange conversations, asunder. I phone, lie my head off, hoping that this will be enough and yes, I’m fine, thank you, while trusting that you are too. Somewhere, someone else is talking, expounding on wooden ship caulking, a subject I never could love, which, for me, would really be tough if my first “if only” were granted, making me a humbug and phony. “If only” is only desirable if reality remains on the table. Line count: 19 Weird rhymes unpredictable For Promptly Poetry, Week 45 Prompt: Write a poem that starts or ends with "if only..." |