1/3/08_Poem by Betina Hershey RussoI have two names
Like I'm a vase sitting next to myself, saying
"Hey, Russo, how goes it?"
"Why fine, thanks, Hershey. And you?"
We're two vases chatting, snuggled close,
Overlapping and sometimes confused.
"I wish I had flowers in me today."
"Oh, no, think of the decay."
What will happen when one of us finally falls
And shatters on the floor?
Will I say to myself, "Well, it's for the best.
There really wasn't room up here for two,"
And then sigh?
Perhaps I'll roll down to the pieces
And delicately put them inside my cavernous insides
And enjoy the weight hidden,
The two MEs finally one.
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