Silly faded cartoon on her ankle,
she owns a smile which melts granite
and pets specters smoke and deviant boys.
Feisty tree-climber then
until her son
can not afford a fall – then came Rosie
‘midst the dramafamily flailings.
Last time a triple-sawbuck
to learn her life’s latest drownings
sorrows before tragedies and all
what comicbook horror show now?
And the usual dodges and hawing hems.
And still that smile
and wicked glee.
She ignores the shaking head
and sad shrug
and flashes that wicked grin.
Oh, please, let me be wrong,
I uselessly pray.