Beautiful People

Old man watches us all over coffee
on the patio. Cragged face,
dapper hat, long gray hair
escaping its past,
dress shirt and pants,
phone on the table.
Scanning left and right,
he’s relishing everything.
I want what he knows.

Savvy young one stands
at that fraught juncture
between childhood and her exodus
outa there. So much life,
big dreams, ready anger as old rituals
and rules of family life chafe.
Change is coming.
Sky’s the limit.

Retail woman is impeccably
put together. Spring fashion model
whether she’s paid to be or not,
public artist, beautifier,
inspiritrix to some of us.
She shows no emotion at all
and that’s her call.
More power to her.

Immigrant master shoe and leather
designer’s shop is still named
for his brother who walked away
twenty years ago.
He speaks of old ills,
asks my heritage, tells stories
I don’t have time for.
I stay. What stories
will I tell someday?

 

#27 of 30 poems in 30 days for National Poetry Writing Month, April 2017

 

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  1. Pingback: NaPoWriMo2017 ~ Celebrating the Sensate | Teresa Young

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