The unforgettable woman at the table across the room. |
|
RaptShe smoked, that is to say,a cigarette And yet, she was smoky still, black hair swept aside A look that advertised with accuracy No admittance, trespassers will be violated Writing, other tables crowded, no one sat at hers The smoking lamp was lit only for the officers Collecting myself, I settled back to watch She may be there still, rapt in not being wrapped |
This poem is included in Jim Freeman's poetry collection CORNER OF MY MIND available here in print or as an e-Book in your favorite formats. |