The Robber Bride; Roz's View

A tiny photograph resides out of memory,
Autumn has gone forever,
Like a machine I am broken,
My listening is calculated,
My volume chords had rose,
And he had shouldered the game well.

The strumpet could ace an actor,
Had she been there,
The pit would have discouraged him,
But it pulled him in, protection
Was no safer than a cow,
His body was slaughtered by the sea.

I am walking chalk,
But worst of all,
I am a mother.