Halo---
the poem hopes to isolate an enduring fragment of memory. a woman adds a wrap against the chill of a long ago
evening. the man remembers the charm of that moment, he also remembers his once stylish white shoes.
yes, it was that long ago he must admit.
a fragment that ignites in our memory and will not burnout.
thanks for reading and commenting.
Steve---
a good idea.
it would look like this:
Her wrap, light
against the night.
I put on white shoes,
it was that long ago.
my normal practice is to find a clear, strong declarative sentence. one goal is to make it easier for the reader to follow the poem. a direct flight with no layover or connection in a small town airport.
but I like your suggestion.
thanks for reading and commenting.
Softwords:
bittersweet, indeed. I knew a woman who forgave her husband many sins because she remembered how he looked outside her tent flap as he cooked scrambled eggs and bacon over a spluttering campfire on a rain edged morning that was so clear it appeared magical.
a man who danced only once at a mixer with the prettiest girl in his school---he remembered the feel of a single brassier strap which forever would define both intimacy and worldliness.
ah, the bittersweet.
thanks for looking over this snowflake that will not melt.
mojave
