05-16-2013, 09:56 AM
Through the curtained window
the Miami noon light leaks.
Words written in soft lead
slant down across the page.
Her face, like the Jai Alai fronton, is
grand, yet oh, so worn.
Smoke ascends around her Virginia Slims scented hair.
She hears the shouts of chula, as
the pelota rolls from the back wall.
In her memory, Joey turns, raises his cesta,
in salute to the crowd.
He admires his perfect shot.
Her last scotch and water sits on the table.
Sixty six years and she is tired and alone.
She brushes the gun as she reaches for her lipstick.
the Miami noon light leaks.
Words written in soft lead
slant down across the page.
Her face, like the Jai Alai fronton, is
grand, yet oh, so worn.
Smoke ascends around her Virginia Slims scented hair.
She hears the shouts of chula, as
the pelota rolls from the back wall.
In her memory, Joey turns, raises his cesta,
in salute to the crowd.
He admires his perfect shot.
Her last scotch and water sits on the table.
Sixty six years and she is tired and alone.
She brushes the gun as she reaches for her lipstick.