Tuesday, August 11, 2009

Waiting For Tristessa



There is a restaurant where they serve me your voice on a china plate.

No matter what time I go there,

It is always dusk

And the waitress has fireflies in her hair.


There is a garden from which the lilies have all been stolen.

No matter what time I arrive,

I am always too late for the wedding;

Too early for the wake.


I'm telling you,

I have stuffed my shoulder bag with moonlight.

I wear a locket

Which is like two halves of a broken heart.


Every passing body on the street tells me something different to do;

But never mind their words.

Come tonight at seven--

I will turn your linen napkin to a bird.

I will request a second setting

And a vase of pale white blooms.


If it grows late, and you haven't come,I will stay

--no matter how long it takes--

I will wait for you.

________

9 comments:

Kay said...

Dusk unto Dusk...so sweet and charming.

Shadow said...

this is sweet!

G-Man said...

....Like a stone.

Daryl said...

So romantic ..

Mama Zen said...

The images in this are stunning. Gorgeous writing.

Lou said...

You have talent, sweetie.

Maybe publish some day?

K said...

Beautiful.

Scarlet said...

Tristessa, la pobre, the hopeless romantic. :)

Riot Kitty said...

I was going to write about the images you are evoking here, but Mama Zen beat me to it ;)