There she sits in her twilight world,
no drink, no company.
Wrinkled and stained, her face
bleeds and drips as an
ashtray coffee stain on the morning paper.
She watches and waits for me,
for us,
for him,
for anyone.
She delays at the ready, legs crossed
hands politely folded on lap,
a lady at one point perhaps,
this posture does not suit her.
"Excuse me, do you have...?"
A dollar, a drink, a moment?
For you no. For her yes.
It would be nice to have somebody who has...a dollar, a drink, a moment...in my midnight world.
ReplyDeleteI like the way you showed your heart.
Your description of Midnight Her is touching. You're blessed to have her as she is to have you. You give to her..a dollar, a drink, a moment... just as she gives to you. She gives you precious opportunities to practice love and compassion.
ReplyDeleteWhat a joy!
I think this is one of the best poems you have written, Randy.
ReplyDeleteWell done!