The Crumb Contest
The Grand Old Dame sat at the table
with cream on the corner of her mouth
from a donut she ate as she sat in her chair
and a coffee she held in her shaking hand
A ribbon and pink visor donned her head
and a reddish hue sprinkled with white
was the color of her coiffured hair
reflecting from a ceiling light
from a diner in the urban night
At one time she was the elite
the meat
of notoriety of a certain group of society
where decisions were made
by a select few
Whom the masses never knew
that shaped the way the world would turn
The hand that shook once kissed by royalty
now wizened and palsied
picked up a crumb and stared at it
as if it were a gem
the jewels amassed as she recalled
in times of wealth
She placed the crumb in her mouth
and conjured up tastes when her palate was young
the delicate meats, the caviar
her suite in Paris
her gentleman friends
But all is gone now
Oh dear, she laments,oh dear
then she rises from the table and stands erect
befitting her character
and leaves the contents on the table
and the past behind
Ralph Sergi contest: NEW POETS OF SOUP 11/26/2013
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