Monday, April 13, 2009

april 09 post-a-poem {7}

the changeling stood by the
hotel door
waiting to be let in
a chameleon,
a fake, a fraud
a liar in another skin.

(there is no room here for you)

water dripped from her briny
back
and formed a green puddle
on the floor.

(youcanknockforeverwewillnotopenthedoor)

what they could not see
would be obvious to you and me,
that she was acutely brilliant
in her
singularity...
in whatever form she chose to be.

RWP prompt

4 comments:

gautami tripathy said...

Beautiful ending..

road trip

watermaid said...

I just love this. Thee rhyme makes it hum without being intrusive.

liz elayne lamoreux said...

wow.
this is a favorite my dear.

these daily poems are such a gift my friend.

Vanessa said...

love.it.