HPN

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Poetry of Issue #8        Page 17

For the Drawer

I could not confess any faster,
In retrospect,
How proud I felt to master
Strong feelings with intellect.

It seemed a brilliant twist: I'll
Turn the form up-ended,
To finish with love's denial,
With punishing force pretended.

Then, it made ironic sense.
The form found wit in wordplay.
But after so long a silence,
Words come to mean what they say.

Not giving then, I shared no game.
To show it now would lay false blame.

William Considine