With a hundred reasons not to
her eyes shift sidelong glances
an unfortunate dilemma
she could never herself explain
a seemingly harmless trifle
scraping along in mud-caked dignity
screaming unhappy gestures
begging her to do many things.
They never appear to wear her out
but she's lost her faithful charm
graying like an apple
that once so handsomely shone
alone by a secular tree
bark peeling of age and heartfelt indifference.
They read each other well enough
to respect the other's selfish wishes
the sowing of one's seeds
the love of another
The grim benefactor
they're perfect for each other.