A song of memory
For our beautiful "Annie,"
Jingling her golden bracelets
And checking her lipstick,
While calmly floating on
An un-moored rocking raft
In a placid Sea
of "Prozac":
Composing well crafted lines
Of beauty in "Bedlam,"
While waiting for her cue,
Waiting for the casting call
of darkness:
Saving enough toxic pills
To step upon the stage,
She does not hear
Her defiant closing lines:
They are driven with
blood red ink
Onto the white pages
Into which she sinks.
(c)Jason Lester Atkins
published in Skipping Stones 2007
Mindworm Press, Chesapeake, VA
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