Poem — Red Pillows for my Bed

Red pillows on my bed! Why? Because — because there’s no one to say to me, No — so I bought them and brought them home and I placed them upon my bed. They made me happy. Such a small thing. Red pillows.

He never would have allowed it but he’s no longer a consideration I consider.

I captain the ship now. I choose. Me.

I do weave past – present – future into lovely tapestries of eggshell blues and seafoam greens splashing across crimson and golden hues. A splash of purple. Bashful youthful strokes ebbs gracefully with ageing efforts until the canvas is conpletstiched.

This pleases me.

This never would have pleased him but I am the Captain now.

■ copyright material – reproduce with permission only.

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