I wonder where it's at
that Chopin recital
of the Nocturnes,
he muses, she said
the pianist's name
which sounded Polish,
but where she didn't say.
She was talking to another
woman on the train,
sitting to one side
in a window seat.
A goddess in a green dress,
legs crossed, thigh showing,
but no news where it was at,
whether they were going
or when or not.
He dared a glance,
taking the goddess
and the other to mind,
then closing his eyes
pretending to be blind.
Sep 2, 2017
Sep 2, 2017 at 1:25 PM UTC
I wonder where it's at
that Chopin recital
of the Nocturnes,
he muses, she said
the pianist's name
which sounded Polish,
but where she didn't say.
She was talking to another
woman on the train,
sitting to one side
in a window seat.
A goddess in a green dress,
legs crossed, thigh showing,
but no news where it was at,
whether they were going
or when or not.
He dared a glance,
taking the goddess
and the other to mind,
then closing his eyes
pretending to be blind.
