November 11, 2012
I know all about your big Cleveland job.
You can have Cleveland.
You can take Manhattan.
Go get it, babe.
Join the scramble for the top.
But, take a word.
When you get where you think it is,
you’ll find the air so thin you can’t breathe.
And, then the bottom drops out from under you.
The person you counted on most
New smiles enter the frame, the ones without souls.
The world gets cold.
You’re alone, wondering who’ll be checking for your first
There will be a moment
You’ll wonder what happened
And, then you won’t forget.
There is no top, my darlings.
So, dig deep
find the bedrock
and, if you should bloom where you’re planted,
the squirrels will love you
and they gather their own nuts.
© Ruth Ann Scanzillo 11/11/12
all rights reserved, in whole and in part.