Reuniun
They come in like birds.
Slipping through the walls.
Others like to perch on the stalls.
Handbags and purses, clutched to their chests,
The rest circle round, eyeing their culprits.
Some squawk and wave at people they think they know.
The leaders stand over their roost,
Circulating snapshots of a perfect life.
Copyright © Yvonne Livingstone Kania | Year Posted 2022
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