Charles Wright May Have Said

by Shelly Reed
 
She's missed the point
but here, regardless,
as if I'm seeing
the ghost of her 
no one's that scenic in real life.

Her suit is gray like the powdered lids
of the first girl I kissed
along a gravel highway
silhouetting Pickwick Dam
five decades former.

Three rows behind 
she shifts like sand
aware that sky is watching,
her lips vibrant like Picasso
and as effortless.

Cologne dabbed behind her knees
floats on the breeze of each guest's passing 
and I am certain it's extract 
from a Monet garden mural 
sated while climbing the trellis of leg.

No one's this scenic in real life
and Michelangelo reminds:
don't polish what's temporary.

 2002 by Shelly Reed. All rights reserved.
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