I love people-watching. It's one of my favorite things to do. I imagine the kind of lives that people passing by live, have lived, or want to live. I suppose there are people who do the same when they watch me. I often wonder what they see, but sadly will never know. I wrote this poem this morning while on the bus, passing one of my favorite diners. It took all of two minutes and I actually like how it turned out.
Waitress
Outside, she steadies herself
against the brick of a deceptive
Hollywood background reflection
Chicago wind dances
through curls, bleached white
time after time
A Betty
Gladys
Or Annette
Index and middle fingers firm
around a long, slim cigarette
Dreaming long lost
dreams with each inhale
With each exhale, wondering
where the time went
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Such a precise and vivid portrait!
ReplyDeleteI've tagged you at my blog. Come check out the challenge (if you want and if you have time).
just stumbled across your blog--we have similar taste in music--
ReplyDeletewhat a lovely poem! :)