Theme Park at its Darkest

Headlights blossom across the rainswept screen

As the rain hammers on the roof of the cab

When the rabble parts she’s suddenly seen

Dragging her little suitcase through the pack

Her lips, her brows and soundless bell of hair

Are as memory drew them, just the same; but

Her eyes are mercurial ghosts that skim the glare

And glide beneath the dappled shadows of the rain

My apprehensive kiss flows into a crude embrace

And the sharp breath through her nose is frustration

As she turns, looks out the window to hide her face

And disappointment corrodes my elation

Whether it’s love or courage, I hardly know

But this can only be perfect if I let her go.

This entry was posted on February 27, 2020 at 7:40 am and is filed under poetry, sonnet with tags airport, girl, Night, rain. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.