portion of the artwork for Lucille Lang Day's poetry
Abandoning Lilac
Lucille Lang Day

Oh no! I have walked away,
leaving Lilac in her room in Petville,
which I never even filled
properly with furniture and toys.

I left her clean and smiling
in her red shirt and denim skirt,
her eyes round and blue, adoring.
I didn’t tell her I’m not coming back.

Instead of more nutritious fare,
I piled gumballs in her bowl:
I could not afford the Petville price
of a pomegranate or a superdrink.

I made a bouquet for her—
two tulips, a daisy, a lily and a poppy—
to pretty up her room. Alas!
It disappeared before I left.

As a final gift, I took her out to visit
Kiki and Sklindish, her best friends,
in their cozy, well-appointed homes.
She gave them each a bath.

I would offer her to be adopted
as someone else’s cherished pet,
but don’t know how, so I’ve left her,
dear creature, in her innocence, alone.

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FRiGG: A Magazine of Fiction and Poetry | Issue 36 | Spring 2012