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Snap shut the Thomas Guide
There’s no direction
The Atlas is closed
The golden mask may still be there
Can’t bear to look
It’s not the same
Rhythm legs and cocktail lips
Poncho’s conga beats
Yesterday’s delicacies frozen under glass
Anita O’Day reborn at night
Awakened with ovations
Stands silent, flowing tears like wine
Invincible Atlas turned to stone
Slams and salsa gone
No ceremony
Titan moans
goddess weeps
Facade fades
Somewhere, a new idol carries the globe
copyright 2006
Brenda
Varda |
