Sunday, December 04, 2005

Late walk

Calmer now and grateful
to have finally jostled through
the shouldering loud herds
of Friday night barhoppers
I take a quiet side street
swim thick translucent
summer air
inhale briefly the complex
charged heat
of a passing woman's
perfume and perspiration
trailing behind her
like a dark lace veil
floating almost visible
in the night
warmth wrapping
around me a moment
like the memory of an old flame
sudden, sweet, sharp
then gone,
fading with the clicking echoes
of her hard heels behind me
down the concrete sidewalk
and I breathe in again
the quiet midnight smell
of the churchyard lawn
beneath blue-white
and move toward home.


Fingers said...

Are the streetlights blue-white?
I so treasure the dusty yellow ones here. They mesmerize me, the light they give out is ethereal.
and I'm sorry if this comment is tangential and says nothing about the poem..

coyote said...

Quite all right. It's a matter of metal halides. At one time all street lights here used to be mercury vapour lamps, which shone kind of purply-blue-white. Most now are of more energy-efficient sodium vapour, and so shine dusty yellow, just like yours. But the lamps along my street are quite old.