547 Readings

Beached

At the inn that had no 
name, A’s parents
were telling tales.
Talking of A and me,
sisters of the same name
and lack of self-promotion,
attesting to our evident
non-evolution as they
waited to go to dinner.

But I was eating apples,
delicious, not Delicious,
one after another and 
you and A were yakking
away and drawing silly
schematics on napkins.
Posted 01/11/11
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