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An Embarrassment of Riches

We sit above the red roofs, unnoticed, you and I,
admiring constellations as the hours tick slowly by.

We're everything to no one. What masks do we wear here?
If I showed you all of me, would you still want to come near?

You'll promise not to pester and I'll promise not to tell.
We'll hide our wealth from strangers and from those with whom we dwell.

In secret, divide your riches. I'll divide my fortune, too.
For truly we are not safe until all the counting's through.

With our eggs in separate baskets, lest catastrophe befall,
our enemy will be time, which makes beggars of us all.

This poem was written for Sunday Scribblings and Magpie Tales.


Old Egg said...

What a lot to ponder on here. I like to think that the more you give away of yourself in love the richer you become. Then sadly as you intimate when one partner dies the one left becomes a pauper. But there I am old romantic. This poem was so beautiful.

April 15, 2012 at 8:53 PM
Tumblewords: said...

A wonderfully wise and sensitive piece.

April 15, 2012 at 8:54 PM
Brian Miller said...

time def makes beggars of us all...and it makes me wonder at the riches, are they material or just each other?

April 15, 2012 at 8:57 PM
Kizmet said...

Wow good reading and then I got to the last few lines and it became prophetic ! you have a gift for tale telling to be sure!

April 15, 2012 at 9:59 PM
Alice Audrey said...

Wealth is Relative is probably your ultimate theme. It runs through everything of yours that I have read so far.

April 16, 2012 at 9:54 AM
Ann (bunnygirl) said...

@Alice: Interesting observation, and one I'd never considered before. I tend to think of my big recurring themes as the family you create vs the family you were born to, and a certain cynicism about romantic love.

If you ever get around to reading Tin Soldier, you'll get a big helping of my "wealth is relative" thoughts, with the middle class sisters thinking they're poor and the man they take in (and later the orphans, including Will) thinking the sisters are rich.

April 16, 2012 at 10:23 AM
Helen said...

'we're everything to no one' ~ awesome line. I enjoyed this!

April 16, 2012 at 11:20 AM
Susan Anderson said...

So intriguing.

"We're everything to no one."
Really liked this line.


April 16, 2012 at 6:55 PM
Yvonne Osborne said...

A really nice cadence to this. And I love the eggs in separate baskets, lest catastrophe befall. And, yes, time does treat us all equally.

Nice read.

April 16, 2012 at 8:41 PM
Trellissimo said...

The last line is so true. "Golden lads and girls all must/follow this, and come to dust."

April 17, 2012 at 5:20 AM
Jae Rose said...

The rhythm of this poem only added to the gravitas of what you had to say..an eternal dance that we all..at some point..must move our feet to..Jae

April 17, 2012 at 8:41 AM
Sean Vessey said...

Time Does make beggars
Each at the last mutters low
Is that all there is

I enjoyed your poem

April 22, 2012 at 12:36 AM

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