Painting by Sharon Hodgson
AL FRESCO CAFÉ POEM #228:
RENATA’S POEM: THE BIRTH OF THE AUTHOR #65
Fingers, close together, raised
Upwards, some of the blue above disappeared,
fingers bent downward and then upward,
the movement repeated,
Some of the sky returned, vanished, returned.
It was a good-bye.
The departing eyes were epaulets, gave orders
For close order drills.
Her wristwatch with the opal body
and black-gloved arms
Ordered the minutes to depart.
It was impossible to be more rapturous
And more detached from people than she was
At this privileged moment.
Duane Locke
Posted over on The Argotist Online
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