Poem: Table for One on Cobblestone | Poetry | Hudson Valley | Chronogram Magazine

Arts & Culture » Poetry

Poem: Table for One on Cobblestone


Last Updated: 08/01/2017 1:34 pm
I prepare myself for no one, everyone, someone—JUST myself
carefully putting on lipstick, something at home I never do
But the heat here makes it glide on my lips smoothly, effortlessly
Like I am someone else painted red in Zadar’s city center
Sacrificed the crunchy granola no make up for coy cat eyes
Stardust sexy stilettos that promise by the night’s end I will have scraped knees
Not because of that... Because I may look graceful but stumble on my own shadow
Scuffing self consciously down cobblestone aware of every eye that turns
Pleased burdened and shy all felt simultaneously
My efforts and metamorphosis being noticed, witnessed by strangers
The buildings are bleached sandstone
Sometimes I can’t tell where the street ends and towers begin
I want to disappear become ancient and recovered
Rubble of war rebuilt civil battle celebrated
here alone, surrounding by a city of stone and stairs
Climbing and Stumbling Fumbling toward a meaning
I See an angel, no quite literally
painted white and illusioned to be floating
with a genuine smile she’s silent as tourist toss kunas in an old coffee can
A stillness in her heart lost to the clatter of a town square
The sun sets and the tiled stone plays to the lowering tide
Couples rush by and the air fills with an urgency
One to be coupled, and again I’m approached and offered a pivo
I sip my mineral water and smile flattered but uninterested
I like to watch listen and feel the mix of people melding together
separate and thinking of an early time, when I would have
The wild freedom of carelessness the lubricant of booze
and I sip harder and look out remembering
Coolness rolls in and settles on my sunburnt knees
Instead I eat carnival colored gelato
My life not hidden somewhere else but current
I once wanted the world to want me
Now I long for the familiar smell of my sheets
the touch of my partner and the casual I love yous
that slip like hiccups from my four year olds lips
I return to my apartment tired and knees unscathed
Wipe the lipstick that is barely there
Slip into a lukewarm foreign shower
And think of the world I’ve seen, the places I’ve been
Concluding that finally I have a home waiting that needs me and I it.

Add a comment

Latest in Arts & Culture