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.