She breezes in
as if no crisis were enveloping.
I’m asked to comment
on the bright red handbag,
glitzy, chic — expensive,
as it’s thrust in my face.
I look at her clothes,
the mask which cost more
than dinner for two.
And then the eyes. What do I see?
Nothing but sadness, emptiness
behind those roundels of blue.
So of course, the handbag is fine,
and that’s what I say, though
it’s far more than I would pay.
Gratified, she scoots off
without once asking how I am
Copyright Francis Barker 2020
Ciscography 