I wrote this poem upon hearing this song, and keeping in mind the piece of flash fiction that was written the other day. That’s about it. It’s a happy completion of my self-imposed 31-Day Challenge. Enjoy.
Before we first met, before I first fell for you,
lamp light had paved the way along
the river walk, guiding me safely
home–which should not come as a surprise
–since this was the typical route. My pockets
sheltered prudent hands, chapped
from the settling autumn, my feet
shattered rusted leaves with each step,
tip-toe across the cobbled streets, avoiding
cracks the best as one can–
a game I like to play from time to time. The opposing
flickering lamps along the footpath promenaded
as the music and commotion drew near. The bakery,
the apparel shops, the tourist nooks had retired
for the evening. The moon cascaded atmosphere,
as it reflected upon the water, skipping into pools of passing eyes.
The Café was lit up from opaque shades, the patio inviting
as the howled call of accordion notes by my best man and his gal,
who smiled as prominently as her left hand. And you sat
just a table beyond, far enough to not hear my excuses
of being unclean shaven and having to walk the cat,
but no looks generated from my abuses.
The seeing your blue eyes, my contemplation resolved
your red lips tossed words with a fury while I moved
around your table; my bumping into your chair absolved.
Aside your light smile, a finger rested upon your cheek,
thumb beneath your chin, turned to me slightly and quick,
but back to converse–an elegant look to scare away the meek.
A white blouse covered with a blue cardigan accentuated your style,
picking up your red wine–Pino Noir the bottle read, 2011–
sipping after a bite of your Tiramisu, a mouth feel and taste worth your while.
My option was the same, but you paid no mind,
and trying to gain your attention I dropped my spoon,
my napkin and a pen–whatever I could find.
As the conversation continued, driving between mine and yours–
my friends brought up the fact of my having gone mad, but
I compelled to explain to them between your conversation pours.
Moment called for action–light prisimed through your empty glass
graced with a hint of quiet lipstick whispered hints, temptation.
Leaving your tip, you exited through the restaurant before your pass.
Downtrodden, be not–the words of my friend–another
moment shall arise, and quite possibly you’ll get your chance.
To mess with fate, you should not bother.
Your long skirt flowed with your turns, with the double cheek kiss
Adieu, your shoulders said as they turned for your departure–
an opportunity waited (less than patiently) for, but not amiss.
Pardoning myself, cue illustrating my desire to follow through,
an attempt to secure attention, to clean-slate the impression new.
Remember my foot slipping upon the wrought iron fence–new shoes.
As stated: I fell for you.
I play with words and invisible objects.
A mind, a pen and a piece paper have the best relationship ever.
"Remember this--if you shut your mouth, you have your choice."
- F. Scott Fitzgerald