Equation

in Poetry

Now young in death
How can that be?
and why should I
surmise her demise
in such fashion

barely cold
when calculations
set in-and I
pretend to feel
but can only count
to sum up
and reverse
the algebra of my
sympathies

——————–

I’m spry yet retired. I reside in the inner city of a major metropolitan area of the United States. I read politics. I watch baseball. I hum along with the tune. I June swoon, and moon the bad poem. Post here, are old and new. Opinions are my very own, except when wrong.

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