Sunday, January 27, 2008

Another Old Song

Another poem, revised a bit. I wrote this when I was nineteen. Good Lord!

Some Nights
Some nights
I linger in my room
listening to Billie Holliday.
I sit at my window and
write in my journal
the stories of my life.
Your picture hangs on a rusty nail
over the roll top desk.
You stare at me from your brass cage.
You watch me with those eyes.
I put down my pen,
return your gaze.
I think of the starlet
you ran away with last summer
all high heels and red lipstick
and I wonder if she’s
playing Joan Crawford
to your Cecil B. DeMille.
Then I laugh out loud
because the thought of you
wearing a monocle
and carrying a megaphone
is just too much.
Daisy C. Abreu
November 11/91

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