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Open Poetry #46
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she couldn't stop me from her past
| Open Poetry #46 |
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she couldn't stop me from her past |
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Tomer Senior Member
since 2002-06-28
Posts 1168Michigan |
She couldn't stop me from her past. To our conversation The wine flowed like a soft cello Between the streets, The fast breathes of Frenchman Pouring hot roast coffee To Womans lips like a rare scene Between kisses and brunch, Just twice after noon, There rests a young boy His bike along the corner Where the street sweeper Combs the dust And gently tips his cap His playful shoulders shrug As he smiles with a sea of ease, He scurries along, Inviting her to sit Like a slow warmth as the sun set forth the night. The table rests just along the corner, Just along the night of whispers, His hand, my hand, My boyish looks tending to her Just as the Riviera began to Sleep from coast to coast Until the light said, I can see you both. [This message has been edited by Tomer (08-30-2010 01:52 PM).] |
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| © Copyright 2010 Tomer Fried - All Rights Reserved | |||
Cpat Hair
since 2001-06-05
Posts 11793 |
well done... some nice word play in this and a bit of mystery that let's the reader draw the characters in their mind as they will... enjoyed! |
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Sunkissed Senior Member
since 2002-12-03
Posts 610 |
Nicely done. Enjoyed the read. ~Sunkissed  |
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easy1 Senior Member
since 2010-05-22
Posts 1209Southeastern USA |
My first question would be is the at-times-awkward translation patina here for real, or deliberately concocted? Sometimes a writer will go for that feel to add an exotic touch to the work. An interesting scene you describe though, and do so very well... from kisses & brunch women to street corner, somewhat dusty waitstaff---and from a Riviera night to the light that (or Who) sees all as God's children. |
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Tomer Senior Member
since 2002-06-28
Posts 1168Michigan |
Thanks for the comments, everyone. Cheers Tomer |
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