Feeling like play, one day <br />he plastered the curtains <br />across her squared shoulders <br />and tacked the rug to her knees. <br /> <br />He bundled all the 'works of art' <br />prettier pictures as you never saw, <br />then rolled them up neatly, <br />where they could not be reached. <br /> <br />He slit her dress at elbow, wrist <br />and inserted fine-stemmed goblets- <br />rims up; one must not spill the wine, <br />while the clock, he balanced upon her head: <br /> <br />Something she said, that he never forgot; <br />if you're late, it's better to just be dead, <br />then recalled how the wedding invitations <br />strangely, had filled him with dread..<br /><br />Patti Masterman<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/trial-separation/
