Friday, March 31, 2017

Her Immortal Sadness--By Suzanne Delaney--United States

Her Immortal Sadness

There is no drama in a robot’s day.
Often - I saw her through an open doorway,
practical, driven, and pre-programmed,
simply staring, in a shaft of filtered sunlight-
robotic and never choosing, her haloed hair
and, sometimes, anything including, how to walk,
or, her expressions, so often - caught a whiff of bourbon.

We lose surprise in what’s predictable;
a bunch of red plastic roses on a round table.
Always, I imagined that she choked back tears
but never saw them, and she never moved position. 
We press the buttons and the duties execute themselves.

Was that a glimpse I caught of her immortal sadness? 
Mechanical, dependable - a sodden handkerchief, 
wrung in tribute to her lost love.

Suzanne Delaney is a retired Registered Nurse.  Born in Tasmania, Australia she is now residing in North Carolina, USA. She has a fond passion for writing poetry, creating mixed media collages, and for traveling.


  1. Dear Suzanne I like your robot mystery, if that what it is
    in "Her immortal sadness" wrung in tribute of her lost
    love. All I can think it must have been her maker,
    or maybe her lost love turned here into a robot
    from her sad emotions.

    1. Nice to see you Yancy.
      Thanks for your thoughtful comment,
      God Blessyou, always. SuZ

  2. Thank you Suzanne,
    Poetry, it seems, is the perfect outlet through which we work with and even come to terms with difficult truth in life. Really like this.

  3. I agree, Michael:
    It was the result of a fun writing exercise. My Muse gets pity when I do
    So nice to hear from you. Hugs, SuZ