errol miller
IN THE CLEAN MORNING LIGHT
Go on and dream
of dead aunts with lemonade
I will water this dram alone
our last days together you went out
with a grey Iceman who couldn't dance
cheek-to-cheek methodically stroking his idleness
until you thought you were his sweetheart
these lessons are confusing
for they challenge the accords of life
in and out of swinging doors we kiss
and look back at rented buggies gusting in the wind
a few tears clustering underneath your makeup
how do you fee, you whispered
spoiling everything I lit a cigarette
a hot day with the sun gone
I had written backwards a story
of hurricanes and lovers sleeping together
in mixed breeds of rooms with euphoric tenants
leaving their lumpy evening baggage on the vanity
these days were made for maidens in creased skirts
Bohemian hotels with big bands playing Stardust
lying there listening to dusk descend
I wondered about your mystique
the lilacs finishing their long performance
and I knew there was a difference
in stopping for a moment to stare or
staying longer to watch them die.
