Treasure Island

MacGregor Tagliaferro

Woman In The City

a woman
has just risen from sleep,
startin' her day
in the city.
All night
in the brisk and slow surrender
of late winter

I think of her,
her pritty smile,
the curve of her hip,
her tongue
like a red fire
touchin' her lips;
it is to swoon.
There is really no question:

How I miss this girl.
I think of her
like a sun castin' beauty
to chase far away the doubt
and darkness
of the day.
Whatever else

my life is
with its books
and its words
and its wide spaces,

it is also this dazzlin' donna
in the city,
capturin' the light;

all day I think of her—
her big eyes,
her pert glances,
her perfect grace.

Copyright 2013 Cowboy Coleridge. All rights reserved.

Submitted: Friday, March 22, 2013
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Poet's Notes about The Poem

For my Muse March 2012 Out West

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