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Open Poetry #36

Basque

Dominique-Simone
Senior Member

since 2005-11-12

Posts 643

0 posted 2006-01-01 06:05 PM

As the fire spoke colors
And wine played songs at my lips
There was a novel that was given to me
From 16th century Basque
The pages yellowed with age
And the binding frail
Expressed a great deal more that I cared to understand
Setting it down, for the last time
He sat there quietly with his misplaced toupee
On my uppity couch with gray pillows
Smirked a smirk he could only give
And said
“You love to read my dear, why do you look discouraged?”
Without hesitation and quite a bit of confusion
Because I thought he knew all of me
I replied
“Yes, but I can only read in English”

littlewing
Member Rara Avis

since 2003-03-02

Posts 9655
New York

1 posted 2006-01-01 09:49 PM

*smiling here*

I love this . . .
and it reads as a paragraph taken from a novel, a scene.

The Lady
Member Rara Avis

since 2005-12-26

Posts 7634
The Southwest

2 posted 2006-01-02 01:54 AM

Your imagery is so vivid. I love the "misplaced toupee."

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