Wednesday, February 23, 2011
Monday, February 21, 2011
A Lady Who Knows She Is Fifty...with apologies to Mr. Nash
Painfully, poor Kirby wakes,
Feels the sun with terror,
One erratic step she takes,
Trembling to the mirror.
Poor Kirby in poor Kirby's sight
Is old and gray and thrifty;
Forty-nine she was last night;
This morning she is fifty.
Cruddy like a sleepy eye,
Like the blanket, musty,
Kirb lets out a noisy sigh,
Because she feels so...rusty.
Feels the sun with terror,
One erratic step she takes,
Trembling to the mirror.
Poor Kirby in poor Kirby's sight
Is old and gray and thrifty;
Forty-nine she was last night;
This morning she is fifty.
Cruddy like a sleepy eye,
Like the blanket, musty,
Kirb lets out a noisy sigh,
Because she feels so...rusty.
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