poetry fix: the elephant

I guess it finally got tired

of being in the room.

Some walked around it.

Others talked around it.

There was that moment

 he stumbled into it

when it seemed  like maybe . . .

but no, no, not a word.

And then later,

when she scanned the room,

searching for a place to rest her cocktail?

No, not then,

but it did leave soon afterward,

knocking over an ottoman before

putting a hole in the screen slider.

Remarkable, really. The damage

could have been much worse.

                                                                                                     yvonne melania lieblein