poetry
OPENING
Brian Campbell
Sun glasses, scarf like feather boa
thrown back with bravado
high boots tooled in soft leather
voice velvety and slow
Between your fingers, a glass of wine
a cube of cheese on a tiny stick
“Oh really,†you say, “that is quite fine,â€
with a toss of hair, glossy, thick
as when you say, “We must get together,â€
the declining tone says, “sometime,†“neverâ€
and when you say, “Oh really?â€
do I hear a trace of, “You’re losing me�
The art on the walls is unremarkable
so you let the conversation flow
with yet again, “It must be wonderful,â€
until again, “I really must go.â€
All very casual, all quite right:
from sophisticated heights sublime
you step out into veils of night
forgetfulness in time

