Charlotte – A Poem

Charlotte believes a lovers’ quarrel
smells the same
as kerosene
poured over the mint in her mother’s garden.

She feels the end of a sonnet
is like the end of a life.

And yet although she recognizes something familiar
in the eyes
and in the manners
of every one she sees
she knows she passes
and will pass
through the world.

Monstrous praises she heard
slurring out of a half-open window
made her giggle
into her clenched fists.

Charlotte believes
and feels.
She recognizes and knows

“It’s just that I don’t understand



8 thoughts on “Charlotte – A Poem

  1. I am very Charlotte-like. The other day some crazy angry woman tried to pick a fight with me over being waited on first. I was so shaken by her meanness that I changed my plans and ducked into a 12:00 movie. There in the seat in front of me was a woman I go to for advice. I sat down next to her and cried in the dark. No one can understand us. My kid calls it Emo.

    • I think you made a wise choice in choosing a movie theatre. They make a great escape where the dark and over saturated noise from the film and the audience’s cell phones can mask our emotions from the general public. A much better refuge then say a library or a supermarket. Sorry for replying so late, and thank you for the comment.

  2. I read your poem aloud and find beauty in its hesitations…and…”lovers’ quarrel is the same as kerosene poured over the mint in her mother’s garden” etches my memory. It’s a fine, fine poem to spend time with.

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