Juvenilia

Old Woman and her Creation

She dreamt a writer,
now she is bitter,
cold in her winter.

Once summer sinner,
now an old teacher,
she dreamt a writer,

Hoped away a future,
now mediocre,
cold in her winter

Yesterday's jester,
now much sillier
she dreams a writer

She fosters a dreamer,
whiter, lonelier
cold in her winter,

She has last laughter:
there remains no myth.
Some scribler dreams her
warm in his winter

18/12/80