The Peacock Shawl

George Owen Wynne Apperley

Remnants are all that are left of the peacock shawl
she used to wear on special evenings out
dancing, laughing, a cocktail held brightly in one sharply manicured hand
chauffeured from one hot spot to another
her photo snapped while she posed nonchalantly
her silken wrap glowing under the streetlamps
streaming color around her neck and shoulders
a blown kiss and a wave to the crowd before ducking through the glass doors
one face in the crowd just smiled knowing her wave and her beautiful outfit
were just for him
the peacock shawl a signal
a sign of her enduring secret love
he was patient
and it was rewarded finally late one evening
on a lonely rooftop
time blurred by speeding like a train and then stood horribly still
not sure how it happened
he must have hugged her too tightly
because her face didn’t quite match anymore
his head felt full of wasps
and he didn’t want to talk to anyone
just be alone in his mourning
and his confused wanderings
until
another face caught his eye
a new look filled to the loving brim with hidden meanings
you can’t stop true love
you can’t get blood out of silk
and so remnants are all that are left of the peacock shawl

*artwork by george owen wynne apperley*

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About chimerapoet

I write. I write a lot. A. LOT. There are times I am half blind with a sentence ricocheting off the walls of my stupid, cant be shut off to save my life, brain. I am miserable until I get it down on paper. Punch it up a bit. Usually cross out half of it. And then breathe. Relax. Only to do it all again..... But I just thought that was me. How I am. Not a writer....noooo...not me. Writers are.....writing people. People Who Write. REALLY write. Write things that matter. All grown up very important things. Not.....me. I am just a scribbler of sorts. And I was/am content with that....if it's true, well then....a scribbler am I. Until the thought wormed its way in to my brain (the furtive sneaky bitch) that maybe...just maybe...that is writing. My style. My strange way. But....still writing. So here I am at the dance. Not sure I know any of the moves and the music is entirely mine. But.....only one way to find out. Would you care to join me?
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