“Bradley”

Richard Guest once commented that he was surprised most of my poems are fiction-based. Here is one that is about an actual experience.

“Bradley”

We busked for a day.
I danced; you played.
Make a wish,
you said in pennies–
southwest bubble gardens
and madhatter currency,
our percocet wedding at the fountain.

It’s not your face
I can recall, but your glow
baggy orange, streaking dirt
and those light brown ale eyes.
How they fell
when I returned
our engagement hemp bracelet!
I can still hear yogi’s help
trailing behind my unmended
skirt as I walked away.

-eira
june 4th 2012