Jeffery Conway

To An Angel - Poem by Jeffery Conway

The first time we meet
in New York City
it will be snowing.
No one will stop
to take a picture
of us as we stand
inches apart and shake
hands on a busy street
corner. Taxicabs
will continue to pass,
splattering dirty slush
onto our wool coats.
We will walk
in silence to a cafe
where we'll sit
for hours sipping
espresso, fingering sugar
packets. The smoke
from your cigarette
will rise and hover
around your head
like mist in a grave-
yard covering
a tombstone at dawn,
the epitaph barely readable.
Just after midnight
you will lean forward,
your face-pale
and thin-emerges
from the haze, eyes
dark as skulls',
and slowly, unnoticed,
we will kiss.

Comments about To An Angel by Jeffery Conway

  • (8/21/2005 2:32:00 PM)

    Another good one. The mood is what makes this's all atmosphere and detail...the way I like it. Nice writing! (Report)Reply

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  • (4/9/2005 3:13:00 PM)

    This is a great poem, Jeffery. Brilliant stuff.
    Regards, Seán

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Read poems about / on: city, kiss, silence, dark, angel, time, rose

Poem Submitted: Saturday, April 9, 2005

Poem Edited: Saturday, April 9, 2005

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