My Last Mistress
That's my last mistress in this photography
I'd hidden in a book. You say she's "cute"?
I fear the camera shook and blurred the lines
That tell of fifty years without repute
Or wisdom, for she never had the time.
You'll note the hair is carefully arranged;
It was her pride. She seemed to think it had
Some charm begetting youth. It thought it strange
To so avoid the truth, and I was sad
To contemplate the reckoning postponed.
She was a selfish woman, never cared
About the children I had left at home.
You wish to see their picture? I'm afraid
I haven't one, but that's not relevant.
Where is the lady now? I cannot say.
I seized upon a minor incident
To end the boredom, but this is today
And what is past is dead! Now, shall we go
To dinner at a little place I know?
No matter what period in time and in what form it becomes,
it seems A Mistress is Part of the Human Experience???