Once a year
my sister visits the grave
of Montgomery Clift

She travels one hundred miles
to kneel in a Brooklyn cemetery
and weep before his
   modest headstone

I marvel at her romanticism
aimed at this mangled wreck
of an actor
this helpless mess of a man
pumped up with drugs
and rough ***
a haunted matinee idol
cavorting on the cusp
of madness

On her way home
she stares out
a bus window

She remembers his tremulous voice
and brooding eyes
his sullen features
overwhelming the giant screen

Soon she will fall asleep
dreaming of him holding her
in his anxious fragile arms
while the gray streets of Brooklyn
rush by