Open Poetry #36 |
Basque |
Dominique-Simone Senior Member
since 2005-11-12
Posts 643 |
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” |
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© Copyright 2006 Page McKay - All Rights Reserved | |||
littlewing Member Rara Avis
since 2003-03-02
Posts 9655New York |
*smiling here* I love this . . . and it reads as a paragraph taken from a novel, a scene. |
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The Lady Member Rara Avis
since 2005-12-26
Posts 7634The Southwest |
Your imagery is so vivid. I love the "misplaced toupee." |
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