Fresh cut grass, hides the stink of
Hot asphalt at the street café, where
Four years earlier, I met Jennifer
Adjusting her bra, when no one saw
Except, I can remember, the first
Thoughts of her were of Odessa, so
Different, yet their underwear
Was the same - black, lace
Too tight, flesh protruding.
I loved Jennifer in spasms, that she
Never appreciated the champagne or
Flowers, just sex and lingerie
In brown envelopes she sent
Polaroids from time to time
Thoughts still come, while I am
Kissing Katherine smelling
Fresh cut grass at the
Street café, reminded of
Jennifer who reminded me
Of Odessa.
The cycle,
Continues.
Excellent poem and so clever in your interweaving of the women. Very well done. Warmest regards and respect, CJ
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Oh, those memories, always there to haunt us. Nice write. Love Ernestine XXX