Shakespeare's Sister

 Pomegranates The Sicilian blues, broken horoscopes An endless stream which weighs my heart down So cruel, yet so methodological  But how, lord, will this all end? Pomegranates  The melodies of my soul My heart is so heavy— I chop on, What is life trying to tell me? Pomegranates  Still, I know not what lies in my heart Is it deep red? Is it white? Is that which we call "heart", heart at all? 13/03/2025

I opened my eyes and stared at my Shakespearean ruler Spelling out Hamlet and Bearing the look of the Thames river bank Where it once belonged I stare too at that dried red rose Which reminds me still of a song Once sung by a broken canary Which sang and died On my window sill I look still at the banana  A fruit so yellow and complex— It reminds me of life itself Treading on—peel on peel Slips on slips, falls on falls. Now, through my window, On the roof below they lie— Like fragments of something I almost understood The broken scale, the red rose, and a banana peel