Spinning – A Poem

He came and pulled on the thread
she spent her whole life spinning
and spinning and spinning and
it unraveled
Just a bit
Right on the edge
Near the end
Pulling apart. “Harumph”, she said, as she perched her hat
on her head
Two towers of obscene pink
Shouting in the haze her frustration at having to
once again
Spin the thread
The one that holds us together.
But SHE does it because she does
She always does.
– Eliot

2 thoughts on “Spinning – A Poem

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