Journal entry of Richard Edwards:
November 15th, 1963.
Her
smile was like a weak cup of coffee.
I looked
out the window.
Leaves
were fulfilling their autumn vows
and
fleeing away,
far from
scolding fingertips.
The sun
was falling asleep,
to dream
of moon and stars
and
blinking neon.
The town
was settled among the hills
and
railroad tracks of yesterday.
Colors
were fading from the photograph,
having
been left in the sun too long.
She was
saying something I cannot recall.
I
smiled.
She
looked out the window.
Night
had crept from the shadows
and
embraced the world.
But blue
neon bathed the parking lot.
She
asked if I was finished.
I drank
the last of my coffee
and,
hand in hand, we departed.
No comments:
Post a Comment