Treasure Island

Jesse Ellsbury

(March 23,1982 / Washington D.C.)

Holding The Flowers

Strange ghosts stalk the city,
Haunting up from sewer grates.
Scarcely recognized memories
Traverse the park in autumn.
Winter nights in the dead of summer,
Single women sell their numbers,
“For a cosmopolitan, mister,
I’ll let you kiss my slumber.”

I hand her a magazine and leave the bar,
I’m pretty sure she just wants my car.
I drift on the wind down to the park
Where the trees reach down like giants
And the moon stares down like an eye.
The wind is chilly by the river,
And I’m reminded of a thousand first dates.

The taste of young love like honeysuckle,
Her hands like a kitten’s paws.
She vanishes back into my thoughts
And I’m left holding the flowers.

Submitted: Sunday, July 14, 2013
Edited: Monday, July 15, 2013

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Poet's Notes about The Poem

Chapter 29 in a series of Cantos I wrote. Loosely inspired by T.S. Eliot.

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