revision of a poem written
in 1985 -- found 27 years later
All I have to do is
smell your hair in autumn,
flame red wet leaves falling
and rain smeary windows,
these white stucco walls
and oaken floors that groan,
blue jazz all night kicking
cigarettes, sipping
Seagrams and 7
so I feel it all waiting
for you.
No comments:
Post a Comment