Yin And Yang II
'Whoa- too much information
I cried, stopping her mouth
but succumbed many times
as the thunder rolled overhead.
Then I remember nothing.
In the morning she was gone.
The house was a bloody mess.
There was no fresh dress.
The doorbell rang. Who was it but Yin?
'Where have you been, my heart,
'Sit down- welcome home again.'
'It's good to be home, ' she sighed,
'Yes, I'll do that, but first these bottles, ugh'
she cried, straightening the rug
and setting the kettle on for tea.
Comments about this poem (Yin And Yang II by Morgan Michaels )
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