Rain on East 77 Street – June 1978

Midnight
Outside
Rain
Thunder.
Inside the foyer My finger
On the buzzer
No reply____
Last winter
Lisa left
To be a model
In Europe
No letters
Since April___
Her face
Never on French Vogue
Nor Italian Vogue
Nor inside any fashion magazine.
Gone___
Inside the hallway
No one
My finger on the buzzer
A last time
Past midnight
She not here
The last word
In the last letter
Love
Lisa
Where did the love go?
All I see are ghosts
Of you
All I have
Are ghosts.
Outside in the rain.
Eyes on the dark windows
I walk away
Into midnight.
Into the rain
With
Only one destination
Away from here
To someplace else
And out of the rain.

This entry was written by Peter, posted on July 5, 2024 at 8:32 pm, filed under NEW YORK, Poetry and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink. Follow any comments here with the RSS feed for this post. Post a comment or leave a trackback: Trackback URL.

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