Red Dress, Some lovely poetry

adam — Thu, 19 Jun 2008 16:19:36 +0000

This is so wonderful, I dont really do poetry, but there is something about this which speaks to me, almost like a memory I have had before?…

Image for purposes of visual encapturement – yes, a new word loyal windermillers

On the afternoon of my 30th birthday
in the park
my red dress a flash of bright against the
dirty brown soil beneath my bare legs
and you.

And just like that
your hand crept up my thigh.

The Brooklyn Bridge adjacent
hovered over us.

Rested my head
on your chest
under the shade of the tree
with the view of the two bridges.

A single pink
balloon floated
above us
from somewhere.
You grabbed its string
and gave it to me -
a birthday present.

We had nowhere to go
but the brown grass that day.
I had no permanent address
anymore.

I lay on top of you
under the tree.
I wanted you
that afternoon.
Knees on legs.

I was 30 then
with you
flashes of red
against brilliant
blue sky.

When I had to go,
you helped me
adjust my dress
unwrinkle myself
place my belt
in the right place
right under my breasts -
high.

The red dress
hangs in my closet
still
it stands out
against my
other clothes.
Its floaty scarlet
flavor
a reminder of
a different time -
a birthday.

The Burning Windmill: Art ramble blog » Poetry