Susan
 
Like a storm at a garden party,
there is little use for Susan.
The things she says, she doesn’t mean,
or she doesn’t mean to say them.
No-one knows what to do with Susan -
chastise her, box her, ignore her?
She doesn’t dovetail, and she fidgets.
Nobody wants that.
 
Like a laugh at a great aunt’s graveside,
there is nothing right about Susan.
Sometimes, she floats thoughts like bubbles.
often, they pop-pop-pop.
No-one knows what to say to Susan -
her responses cannot be planned for.
They can leave you knowing nothing.
Nobody wants that.

Nina Parmenter

If you have any thoughts on this poem,  Nina Parmenter would be pleased to hear them.