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A narrow white bed

Perched on a shimmering blue hill

He lies there

Fast asleep,

The old man

With his long white beard

And empty eyes.

She is asleep

On a flimsy grey cloud

Close by in the darkening sky

The old woman

With her sparse grey hair and withered face.

A wingless cherub

Floats above their heads


His bow and arrows

Lying dormant by his side.

Cupid shakes his curly head

Why bother

My arrows cannot pierce

Hearts of stone.

                                       Annette Wexler
                                        October 13, 2014


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