Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
terry-collettPoems
Madison Square was Different back then, Your grandmother said. She spoke of long dark Dresses and the heat And hats and always Having to be so Aware of men’s stare. She and her friend walked Along by the horse Drawn cabs, wondering Where and how far you Could go for the price Of a big smile. You Remember her Sitting in her old Rocking chair, her long Grey hair, pinned up, a Cigarette between Lips gazing at you Through the smoke, her eyes Fading to a light Blue, gazing at you, Wondering if you Was the kind of girl She once was. Never Told my parents where We went, Grandmother Confided; it’d Give them grey hairs and Haemorrhoids if they Knew. She chuckled; coughed And spat phlegm. That’s the Difference, she said, Between your mother And me and me and Them. Being just that Little bit over The edge, daring the Reach beyond others. You recall her last Days, laid up in bed, Staring out the large Window, at the blue Of sky, waiting for Death to come for her, The slow wait to die.
0
Aug 11, 2014
Aug 11, 2014 at 4:40 AM UTC
MADISON SQUARE 1900.
Madison Square was Different back then, Your grandmother said. She spoke of long dark Dresses and the heat And hats and always Having to be so Aware of men’s stare. She and her friend walked Along by the horse Drawn cabs, wondering Where and how far you Could go for the price Of a big smile. You Remember her Sitting in her old Rocking chair, her long Grey hair, pinned up, a Cigarette between Lips gazing at you Through the smoke, her eyes Fading to a light Blue, gazing at you, Wondering if you Was the kind of girl She once was. Never Told my parents where We went, Grandmother Confided; it’d Give them grey hairs and Haemorrhoids if they Knew. She chuckled; coughed And spat phlegm. That’s the Difference, she said, Between your mother And me and me and Them. Being just that Little bit over The edge, daring the Reach beyond others. You recall her last Days, laid up in bed, Staring out the large Window, at the blue Of sky, waiting for Death to come for her, The slow wait to die.
2010 POEM.
terry-collett
Written by
terry-collett
English
Aug 11, 2014
Aug 11, 2014 at 4:40 AM UTC
Request permission to use this poem