Rosedale

I originally wrote this poem back in mid-2009, but recently changed it quite a bit with the intent to distribute to various resources for possible publication. I'm pleased with how it turned out.

GWC

there was a time
when my fingers
caressed

her blushing face-

she is a memory
out of phase

no longer visited
on the street

corners crept back in-

now she walks
another beat,

but they don't share
Rosedale moments-

those dirty hippie sheets,

or the wrinkled dollar bills laughing
from the corner table;

cheap perfume
mixing with motel-sweat-

we were just two beaten souls
searching for a diamond
gaze,

and behind those nicotine curtains
we found our place

© GWC 2010