jeans and silver-studed
jacket. Luminous
as a will-o-wisp
under the yellow lamp-
light she walks the streets'
canyons. The click of
her heels echoes from
the walls. On the
upper fire escapes
twisted shadows lean
forward. In cellar
windows eyes suddenly
gleam. In doorways dark
as toothless mouths young
men uncurl from
feral crouches. Her heels
click along pavement
and a smudge of black
tears from the sky floats
in her wake.
(c)Serena Fusek 2009
the writers group of Write Now say "YES" to the 2010 Woman Poetry Project!
ReplyDeleteI can see her jacket flapping back & forth, keeping time with each click of her stilettos.
ReplyDeleteShe is an angel of the dark side.