A Little Peace
She wears sunglasses
for hangovers;
he wears them
to avoid attention.
Her purple velvet
purse hangs behind her
as she slinks into a bar
and orders a drink,
trying to cover up the loss
of dreams by letting
sips of alcohol
alter her mood,
cold and sweet salvation
slipping over her tongue.
Her soft red sweater
shines slightly in half lights,
as if her life were as soft
and gentle, but her tears
catch behind her dark glasses,
and he sees her finally
through his mysterious disguise.
She chokes down a dream
with every sip, holds it all back,
but he continues to look cool,
as if he knew exactly
what to do every minute
of his life,
as if he knew she would
leave with him if he asked.
They talked, wearing their sunglasses,
drinking in the midnight,
hoping to find a little peace
in each other's hands and arms.
Silver Under Blue
She wore a sky blue dress
of silky-soft fabric,
as she entered the bar,
red drapery lining the walls
and separating rooms,
lush, velvet and deep.
She caught her dress on a chair
and he grabbed her arm,
her blue dress blowing back
under spinning ceiling fans.
She pulled her arm back
and fled towards the door,
a piece of blue sky
trailing behind her,
a silver lining flipping upward,
like a cloudy field
beneath blue sky.
Memories Like City Lights
Miles of lights
go back into infinity
in black night,
gleam white, imitate stars
as she sips champagne,
her sofa a soft velvet,
the play of fire shadows
on lavender walls;
lace covered chairs,
dazzling patterns under city
and fire light,
the fineries her deceased husband
provided, luxuries, beauty,
lace trimmed curtains,
"clean as snow," she says,
everything balanced to precision.
A memory in each item,
recalls their love,
love-making, trips,
dances, celebrations,
holiday cheer, laughter,
tears--every fabric,
painting, golden frame
echoing a part
of their lives together;
agonized by her own longing,
memories sustain her,
one for every city
light before her.
Her Chance
Rain dances on the parking lot,
every light around
glowing back, as she runs inside
to sing after twelve,
the piano players
and guitarist waiting.
She sings to applause
and whistles as tea lights glow,
customers sip wine,
and quiet conversations
continue in far-off corners.
Rain slows as the crowd warms up,
her red and white earrings
sparkle in the spotlight,
silver star pendants
hanging from her neck,
blue sequins on her jacket
spray light as she moves,
all a-glitter and aglow.
The crowd, appreciating
her glamorous voice
as it moves the music,
begins to dance,
her voice leaving a romantic
twinkle in almost every eye.
The city spans out behind her,
like golden dreams reminding her
that she can finally get somewhere.
