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At Eighteen Keli Stafford [keli_staff1975@yahoo.com] The blazing hair like comet's fire Was a tongue of flame above your brow The day you chattered and danced to Chopin Playing on a music box I hear even now. You came to meet him with tottering steps A little child stretching out your arms To cling around his neck, and he picked you up And danced while he held you in his arms. Led on by your friend, the woman in the moon The dancing sunspot sees the way ahead Radiant with ribbons fluttering in your hair As you run through the perfumed nights of June. You leave and halfway out the door Start humming, happily it seems, on key. I hear it and know in whatever part Of the world you are, you will live with me. |
Poem © 2003 Keli Stafford, all rights reserved
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