by Ralph Dumain
Your elegance is a forgotten piano bar
in which we sway nostalgically.
A suspension bridge seen through the window
spans the night while your eyes sparkle.
Something tears in me; your head bobs above
a glass of wine; your dress is fine; my thoughts
drift to uncertainties -- will you read them
and then nod to me? Your elegance
is the cobbled pavement and the street lamp
glowing from where we stand to way across
the river: it is poignant. Suddenly
I can't make conversation; I stutter,
shrug my shoulders; my eyes are waiting.
Your elegance is not easy to face
directly. I only hope your smile
will be that crescent moon blessing
the bridge and making the steel sigh
[5 September 1992]
(c) 1992, 2000 Ralph Dumain
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