Haley Connors: Favorites

Jan 2013 Haley Connors

Terry Collett

She sits on the chair
her wavy hair
still neatly in place
putting on her stockings

as he stands
with his back
to the window
gazing at her

she pauses
her fingers holding
the stocking tops
and looks at him

and says
in her sluttish French
do you want me
back tomorrow?

there is a draught
from the window
touching his naked back
sending a shiver

along his spine
sure
he says
but make it a little later

the wife’s got
a show to see
and she doesn’t leave
till just after 8

ok
she says
pulling up
the stocking

and fixing it
to the clip
shall I bring anything
with me?

no just yourself
he says
and maybe wear
that tight skirt

and creamy blouse
and those black stockings
she stands
and pulls down

her slip
to cover
her underwear
and looks around

for her dress
look
he says beware
of the concierge

she’s a nosey old biddy?
she asks
biddy what is that?
just be careful of her

he says
don’t let her
see you leave
or she’ll tell

the wife
oh I see
sure I will be careful
of the biddy

she says
picking up her dress
from the chair
by the bed

and as she turns away
he studies
her neat ***
the way she climbs

into the dress
her hands so quick
in movement
the finger so precise

like those of a pickpocket
and he sees her leg rise
the stockinged leg
the fineness of the thigh

then she turns toward him
and she smiles
and she starts
on the other leg

and he wonders
what his wife would say
if she came in now
how’d she’d look

then it’s over
the dame’s dressed
puts on her coat
and picks up her bag

and takes the money
he’d put on the desk
and shoves it
into the bag

and sighs
and leaves
and as she goes out
the door

waggling her ***
he knows
he wants her back
some more.

Jan 2013 Haley Connors

when only Hope remains (Poem Art)

Jan 2013 Haley Connors

Tilly

when only Hope remains (Poem Art)

One
                                                    d
                                           e
                              a
                  d
          leaf
brown & brittle
hangs upon a branch
Swayed by a Northly wind
     You turned to me,
                saying gently
you would be gone            long before
      the tree                outside your window
                            lost every one of its leaves                   You
                                      forgot                that brighter greens grow
                                        beneath those rough        dark capillaries
                                                which span this                 grey horizon
                                                 Days pass                 shadows shorten
      & Spring renews            Sun warms
    our upturned faces   Maybe soon
                 you'll glimpse that fragile hope
                                                  still fluttering          above us
                                                        in the dappled canopy One
                                 single skeletal leaf       I'd
                        attached         with a
           steel safety pin
.

A grand-daughters true story.