A ROGUE WAVE

by Lynn Strongin

A ROGUE WAVE may get us
what is the red priest writing, viola? Oboe?
While the red pony rides free

I was on the cutting edge of passion
While the subconscious, that wily little beast, distracted
Attention to the pen which had fallen off the table.

The one that got away
Pessimism:
The single gladiola that failed to open its six points yellow as the sun or butter
          This is hostage taking:
          my joy which ran freely in dawn is now a thin stream of water unable to reflect
a thing.