Metaphor: For Nancy
She told me my characters were like clothes hanging on a line
They're beautiful clothes, though, she said
That just made it worse.
It wasn't the best metaphor,
She would be the first to admit it.
We all can find better metaphors,
But it was the truth,
and Nancy was always about the truth.
Right until the end, she was telling the truth
Propped up on pillows, eyes big with morphine,
She didn't even use metaphors then, just
Came right out and said it. No, that doesn't work
That's really what we all want to hear even though
I'm ready, she wrote to us, just those simple words
And we knew it was the truth, and it hit us hard
Because we didn't want it, the truth, but there it was
coming from her lips,
The truth, not slant at all, but just
(p. 1, The Hong Kong Review, Vol. III, No. 2)