Monday, July 16, 2007
"Cigar"
He pulls long and hard
on a sweet cigar,
the smell hanging stiffly
between his yellow, stained fingers
gripping me as I pass.
It reminds me of people
I no longer know or see,
reminds me of things
I can no longer remember clearly.
The smoke rises
around his sagging flesh
enticing the wisps of smoke
to cling to his jowls.
Gray hair is flattened
upon his balding head,
greasy and badly combed
like a winding, downhill highway.
His back is hunched,
the frame of his body
rigidly twisted
in front of the Episcopalian church.
He is teetering on the curb
like the memories
teetering in my head
as he waits for something
that cannot be given.
Aleathia Drehmer 2006
Published by Laura Hird Spring Showcase 2007
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment