Loss

Shall I compete
With high-heeled feet
As the gods look down
And snigger or frown?

Aphrodite is flighty
Yet I have thought her divine
And from time to time
Still worship at her shrine.

Nymphs suppress a sigh
And smile.
They will, for a little while
Stay
Though they long to hie
Away.

Gloss
May conceal the crack of age.
I am at a loss
But should learn
To turn
Over a new page
For this stage
Is a temporary thing
And I am without a ring

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