I am a retired professor of French, living in New York City, painting, writing, and trying to learn Portuguese for a trip to Brazil. . My most recent publications are poetry collections: The Unknowing Muse (Dos Madres, 2014) and Wars Don’t Happen Anymore (Deerbrook Editions, 2015)
On a line from Shakespeare’s Sonnet 81:
"When all the breathers of the world are dead…"
After love, she gets a stuffy nose.
Is she alone in this
or are there others? What to choose?
Deprive herself of bliss
and freely breathe, or proceed
and nearly smother?
Oh, skip it. There is no free
lunch. No free pleasure
either. She would behave
more chastely if the danger
of mortality were grave
for her or for her lover.
But, really, the risk is slight.
She’ll live with it. Good night!
©2016 Sarah White