Bastille Day

“O Liberty! What crimes are committed in your name!” -- Marie-Jeanne Roland

You smoked on the vine-latticed balcony and mused over
       
my absurd unhappiness, how one more starving year gnaws
   
the corners of my smile. Leave her, you said. Piece of cake.

The burden of a moment that might not come, brushed aside
   
like ash floating up thin wrists; stage-whispers punctuated

by your careless flinging torch. Choices are soft and dimpled

big town lights glimpsed from afar, radiating gorgeous ghosts

not the wrinkles at your mouth, the knife in your fingernails

as you flicked the cigarette. Two years ago the doctor

explained his procedure blow-by-blow, we went home to think,

and dry-eyed, sincere, my wife offered me a chance to leave.

Terror falls down the same height in the blindfold of evening.

Guillotine eyes, then and now; strange barricades of bodies

and, always, what stops me is this fear of too much liberty.

Reviews

[Colette]

LOVE this!

[Bill Grimes Jr.]

"Choices are soft and dimpled
big town lights glimpsed from afar, radiating gorgeous ghosts
not the wrinkles at your mouth, the knife in your fingernails
as you flicked the cigarette."
Each word stands alone....a tribute to the whole.......awesome symetry......flowing verbiage......excellent poetry my friend.....