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Mary Roberts

written by: Linda Imbler

 

Mary Roberts, are you alive?
I thought you were twitching.
Living eyes shifting and darting
as you study the room,
but you’re made with skin of plastic,
your traveling cannot be.
You can only stay in one place.
Your eyes in that face cannot see.

Mary Roberts, are you alive?
I’m sure you were twitching.
Showing much more wrist than before,
hands stretched from the gingham,
fingers pulling on the stitching.
If your arms could rise much further,
just what could those hands do?
What is that lying on the floor?

Mary Roberts, you ARE alive!
I just watched you twitching.
Feet moving inside pretty shoes,
and those legs, if they moved,
could they possibly be creeping?
Warm liquid now on floorboard seeping.
Now prone, I hear feet being shuffled.
Now prone, I hear breath being muffled.
How did you get from there to here?

Linda Imbler

Linda Imbler

Linda Imbler is the author of the published poetry collection “Big Questions, Little Sleep.” Her work has appeared in numerous journals. Linda’s creative process and a current, complete listing of sites which have or will publish her work can be found at her blog. This writer, yoga practitioner, and classical guitar player lives in Wichita, Kansas.
Linda Imbler

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