Barbara

June 30, 2012
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She blows the smoke from her mouth
softly
and asks how school is
then takes another puff at her Marlboro.
blue eyes, like the sky in May,
an ever smiling mouth
and an eternal cigarette.
Oh, cloud-headed wonder!
Cotton hair,
so white it's almost see-through.
I ask you:
where are the years that have gone by?
but you don't answer, hidden behind smoke, as you go empty your ashtray





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