Joy
Joy
I.
The noise of those late night,
city street, movie theatres
with firecracker popcorn machines:
that high top sneaker beat.
II.
Sitting down at the piano again
and sketching that melody--
letting my fingers remember
the shadow of each note,
the slope of their ups and downs,
the traipsing parade of flats.
III.
The bumper of your
white Honda,
The smell of sunscreen
faded into our loose, summer skins--
Our lives before us like flipped coins
yet to meet gravity,
yet to choose a side.
This poem is about:
Me
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: