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David Ferreira
Plam Pluk
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Barefoot in the Park
by Wayne Thomas (Age: 58)
copyright 06-07-2004


Age Rating: 13 to 127

 
Gnarled and twisted trees along the path
throw eldritch shadows over broken ground;
a strangely peaceful moon floats overhead
with open mouth that never makes a sound.

Snow is piled in dirty drifts
around the lamp-posts and the curb,
and empty taxis sitting idle
waiting for dispatcher's word.

I saw a girl today in ragged jeans,
without an overcoat,
wearing woolen gym socks on her hands,
in perfect pitch singing every note

of a Chopin polonaise
as she walked, unheeding, barefoot in the snow.
I stopped and offered her a ride;
she had nowhere to go.

And I really had no car, I said,
but I do know where it's warm,
and I hope you won't think ill of me
but i rather like your song,

and I'd like to offer you a cup
and maybe we could chat a while
and maybe we could just be friends?
And she began to smile.

That sounds very nice, she said,
as I took her stockinged hand and led the way
quickly from the snow to my turret room.
I lit a fire and made some Nescafe

And we talked away the winter cold and gloom,
for loneliness is all they say it is and more,
and she sang for me and I wrote this verse
and taped it on the door.


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01-19-2005 Anthony Lane Stahlhut    

This is a very good poem. The feeling of friendship can be the greatest gift you recieve or give. Thanks, Anthony
Visitor Reads: 576
Total Reads: 578
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