I still see Jordan
with the too-tight clarinet,
playing some old schooltime song
under the tamaracks,
patiently waiting in the backyard,
but sometimes,
the smoke from her seventh
morning cigarette
billows up in my face:
I have to scratch my ass
and ask myself
how long I should hold on
to memories.
A contest entry
- Pre-write Contest: Love Poetry by Nicole Hanna.
15000 points, ended January 28, 20 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
What did you think
Comments
-
I like this. It's bittersweet, and suggests a real honest-to-god relationship with a real honest-to-god man or woman... especially the last stanza. Thanks for entering. So few get what I want with this contest, and I'm glad to see that you do.
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