A Black Pearl

A Poem by Jane M McCabe

There’s no point in trying to talk to you.
You’re like a cat that never left
The apartment where it was born.
&, so, if I told you,
You wouldn’t believe me,
That there’s always snow
On the crest of Mt. Kilimanjaro,
That prehistoric fish still live
In the depths of the oceans,
That a great black pearl can be
Formed from the flesh of
An ugly mollusk, &
That it is possible to love
Without all things being perfect.

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