20 Memories
you were yelling at the wake
the parade moved slowly down
the smile on your face was oddly drawn
I remember only the last line
green was somehow associated with loneliness
peppermint all through the night
a small blue sound in the black night
the dog growling closer
a perfect rainbow over the bike path
a wait before the inevitable
your song in a darkened basement
learning not to float against all odds
frozen steps in deep winter
the orangest sunset through a subway window
stomach jumbled with nerves and excitement
a ringing bell like an idea lightbulb
the cats loud in the alley
your stubborn insistence
the last time I saw you
the meanness of time
(i think the above poem would be stronger if you end with the line
“the cats loud in the alley)
What’s the MPH
the speed of the subway competes with the speed of my thoughts—which is faster? which will win the race? what race? emotions coasting underneath—saw you at the bus stop covered in an oversized brick-red jacket with a hood over your head—hands full of bags—but I didn’t recognize you until I saw you close up on the subway platform—waiting—sheltering from the morning’s pissing rain with wind blowing the mist sideways in our faces—but here we stand and wait and stop the speed of internal wrangling long enough to say hello and exchange a few words about our commutes and the perennial topic of those not close—not strangers—not quite friends—the weather—strange weather dancing at a different tempo now
(i think you should start this poem with “saw you at the bus stop”)
Wanda bio, url, foto and foto credit, if necessary, tk