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
revised 1/27/08