She dances barefoot in the rain,
wearing pearls with her raincoat,
critiquing the ability of the sculptures
to samba and making time
for every mirror,
strictly to be polite, of course.
Thin lipped women hide under
the awnings of the cafe sipping
their tea while they avoid getting
wet. They whisper (and the cashier
sighs) when she waltzes by.
Cautious men hide from the women
behind curtained windows —
sneak glances at her as she
twirls though puddles and the
rain beads on her Mediterranean
skin like brandy syphoned
from a cask —
and plot their own
4 responses to “Glances”
We had the same wardrobe thoughts in our opening stanzas. 🙂
I adore this: “making time for every mirror”
“Thin lipped women” … I’m so glad you did this; the sound is much better with your rhyming version than with “narrow.” Smart.
I like this very much: “They whisper (and the cashier sighs)”
“and plot their own destruction” … Brilliant ending! You are always SO strong at the close.
Mark, I love this. It makes me think of a Hopper painting, mainly because your words are so visually precise.
Splendid piece of writing. Well done, Mark.
This is one of your very best, Mark. I love it.