Sometimes, all goes well.
Of Bailey pier last night, waiting for the
Fireworks. I hadn't seen her since last
Summer. She looked good. I called her
Name. She sat up, smiled and said,
“Come sit,” and I brought out my jug
Of wine. We talked until the sun was
Down, and kissed beneath the flower
Bombs. When they were done, we
Joined the crowd, which further
Smoothed those ancient boards.
I walked her to the subway entrance,
Said I'd had a lovely evening. As I
Turned, she called out, “Next time,
Don't be gone so long.”
Poetry by Lawrence Beck
Read 61 times
Written on 2014-07-10 at 14:15
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A Trifle for Ashe
Saw Rita laying on the worn-smooth boardsOf Bailey pier last night, waiting for the
Fireworks. I hadn't seen her since last
Summer. She looked good. I called her
Name. She sat up, smiled and said,
“Come sit,” and I brought out my jug
Of wine. We talked until the sun was
Down, and kissed beneath the flower
Bombs. When they were done, we
Joined the crowd, which further
Smoothed those ancient boards.
I walked her to the subway entrance,
Said I'd had a lovely evening. As I
Turned, she called out, “Next time,
Don't be gone so long.”
Poetry by Lawrence Beck
Read 61 times
Written on 2014-07-10 at 14:15
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text| Texts |
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