Westbound Train
Before the rain
She came calling again
Last to be kissed
Muskrat in mist
Copper kettle, smoldering coals
Papyrus letters, indelible scrolls
Westbound train, eclectic guitar
Powder blue taxi, front door ajar
Ballet slippers, nails painted pink
Descending those steps, feigning a wink
Where does she get off strutting that stuff
Prancing past puppets, acting so tough?
Drops of honeydew those wine glass legs
Round square fence posts, oval wood pegs
Old days are gone
And so are the dreams
No picking up on outdated themes
Fires do not burn forever
I told her “everyone knows”
Off-centered smile, dubious clothes
Left her standing there neither happy nor sad
In roundhouse gray and scantily clad
Copyright © Alan Reed | Year Posted 2014
|