Is She Writing A Poem About Me?


Well, she's busy. She's in Greece
on assignment. It's not that she has
nothing to write. She does.
I'm sure it's crowded on the bus
or in the rent-a-car,
no space or time to contemplate her broken heart.
Or maybe it's there. The poem. Inside.
I don't know. She's always been.
Busy. I've always been wondering.


Donald Zirilli
1998