Dark clouds swallow the sun - Weebly.com
Missing My Muse
by MJ Moore
My muse is in Mallorca,
lying on a turquoise towel
spread on sparkling sand,
naked to the sun
and appreciative stares.
She wanders Left Bank stalls,
flipping through prints of Monet haystacks,
sips Cote du Rhone along the Seine,
prowls Parisian nights.
She dips churros in chocolate in Barcelona,
bikes the Appian Way in Rome,
gets drunk on limoncello
with her new raven-haired lover.
On the other side of the ocean,
I trudge my neighborhood blocks,
masked, muffled in coat and hat,
desperate for signs and omens.
Oxalis crowds out last year’s tulips—
a Napoleonic march across the yards.
In toppled lawn display,
an 8-foot plaster T. Rex skeleton
stares at Triceratops’ feet.
Odd items blossom from street-corner boxes—
mismatched plates, Christmas mugs,
half-chewed dog toys, Matchbox cars,
an ancient Eureka vacuum without a wand.
A black cat eyes me with suspicion,
Back home, I watch as dark clouds
swallow the sun.
I am the cracked gnome
left to guard
the abandoned garden.
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