Posted by: Ron DuBour | April 13, 2015

Daily missive for Monday the 13th of April.~by Peter Forster



Daily missive for Monday the 13th of April.

Cafe people.

She was graceful,
In a slow and easy
Variation on a theme
That still had rhythm.
She practiced her steps
Every morning,
In the full length mirror,
Discretely positioned in a corner
Of her small grey bedroom,
And now made
A sedate kind of progress.
Even after so many years
Of disappointment

She still had the moves,
And negotiated the space
Between tables
In a soft, low heeled shuffle.
She carried the music
In her head,
Their favourite song,
The memory of the dance
Sustained her.
And the merest
Hint of his smell,
That still lingered
In the gaps between
Her recollection.
And the tingle
That took her fingers to
The place on her cheek
Where she felt his kiss,
Could still bring her to tears,

After so many years.
The spotty kid,
With the baseball cap
Turned front to back
Drinking a can of soda
Like a highball,
Gave her the eyeball.
He thought the old lady
Was disgusting,
And would have pitied her,
But found the words
Too hard to come by,
So he looked away.
She sat down with a sigh
Too tired to care
What he thought.
It was her hope, that one day
He would find his way
To an understanding
Of what it was like
To grow old,

Have all the moves
But lose the need to make them.
She used to be a dancer
But turned her ankles now,
Too swollen from
Pushing the shopping cart.
She used it
To carry the weight
Of a broken heart.
And every day
It got harder to blink
Away the tears.
She had practiced
For so many years
It had become second nature
But now, even nature
Seemed to conspire
Against her,
And the cold was rolling
Through her bones.
The morning sun barely touched
The edges if it,
And one day soon she
Was going to forget
How warm she felt
When she heard the words to their
If she lost the tune
That might be the time
To call it a day,
There would be nothing left
In the broken strings
And frayed chords,
To make her want to stay.

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