Sunday, June 9, 2013

Poem #70: Outside the Party

Outside the Party

Late.
From the terrace,
sheared grass stretches,
gray and undefined, into
a galaxy of stars. A cool 
breeze carries the scent of 
seaweed from beyond 
the woods. Behind her, 
a door opens, releasing 
the music, then subduing it
again with a soft click
of the latch. She does not turn,
but listens to the languid
pattern of his pace as he 
crosses the flagstones to 
the pitted concrete balustrade 
that abrades her elbows.
A hushed scrape, a flare, 
a dim crackling as a glowing 
cigarette tip answers 
the inquiry of his breath.
A sigh. The horizon
holds her eyes, drawing his 
from her ice-pale face, 
which glimmers. Like
snakes charmed from 
their low, fat baskets, two 
blue columns of smoke
meet, hesitate, and then 
begin a spiraling, ascending 
pas de deux.

(c) 2013, by Hannah Six


Photo: Kengoora