When the tall stranger
steps into my kitchen in his tux
asks for coffee and brioche,
I’ll slip up to my room
don my gown, plait my hair
curl with a favorite book
in my reading chair.
With wind brushing my skin
soft music in the air,
I won’t invite him in.
But when his face appears,
I’ll smile and say
“Darling, I’ve been waiting here.”
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Cynthia M. Sheward
Cynthia Sheward has written poetry since she was a child. She was born in Massachusetts but spent her young life in New Jersey. She applied her English degree from Arcadia University teaching junior-senior high school in Vermont the 70’s. In the 80s, she and her husband built their own house with their own hands in the mountains of North Carolina. In the 90s, she returned to NJ where she worked for a Fortune 500 corporation until her retirement.
Her work has been published in Friends Journal, Evening Street, the Bennington Banner, Fiber Arts Magazine, the Mountain Times and various other print media.
She currently resides in Jupiter, Florida.
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Reads beautifully, Cynthia! Not sure I would have known the topic if I hadn’t read your tags. Makes perfect sense…
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Thank you, Becky. Perhaps I was a bit too vague.
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