An elegant woman in a long brown tube dress
Accenting bare milky shoulders
Gently clad by a silk cape
Exhaling skyscraper-like confidence
Leaned upon the afternoon bar
Requesting Tanqueray and tonic
And placing her dark sunglasses
Into her expensive leather purse.
I was a young man a day
Past twenty-one
And nearly as inexperienced
And naïve as I am today
Decades later;
I entered the bar for no purpose
Dreaming of Ernest Hemingway.
She sat alone at the bar
Not in need of any man
Or anything much in particular;
I sat conspicuously by myself
With a notebook
And studied her ankle-revealing shoes
As if to gather major information
Concerning the universe.
Madonna was playing in the background
And it felt like a pleasant day;
After she finished her drink,
The startlingly beautiful woman
Walked over to my table and asked,
“Are you looking at something?
You seem to be staring at me.”
I replied, “Only at your ankles, honest.”
Before I could utter an apology,
She kissed me and exited the bar.
I almost left my notebook behind
On that amazing day
And still haven’t caught my breath.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Great atmosphere in this one. Worthy of a Hemingway novel. Fantastic conclusion. Always your friend, Sandra