Poetic Interlude XIX


White Shoulders
Pink Porcelain, in a shade out of fashion for years
An oval cake of soap, the shape of the tub,
Faded floral pinks and greens.
Glamorous busts of women long dead, now filled with flowers:
Thelma, Queen of Perfumes.

Old Spice, in its prim white bottle;
Steel soap-dish holds coal-tar,
Mounted on white tile.
Neatly laid out, brush and straight-razor,
A family resemblance.
Careful, impossibly slow,
The effects of time are scraped from the face;
The old man and the young peer out of the mirror.


©2013 by Tyler J. Yoder. All rights reserved

About Ty DeLyte

Madame DeLyte has suffered a grave disappointment - YET AGAIN - and still believes that freedom, beauty, and truth are what's valuable, rather than vulgar cash. He'd add love to that list - but, well, what can he say about love?
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