At the Corner of Richmond & Main

Every morning,  it's always the same:
my car skids on black ice,  jumps the curb,
hits a man carrying carnations.   He twists

in the air;  the sky rains pink petals.   As if
they can pass through glass,  my hands stretch
to touch him,  to make promises I can't keep:
tomorrow we won't be on the sidewalk together;
the sanders will be out,  the road dry.   Across town           

at Jimmy's & Son,  the attendant asks,  Wash or
wash'n wax?   What'll it be, lady?
   I want him
to check for scratches,  stems,  crushed stamens.

Quick Fire   Fuji printing material
Copyright 1990, Carolyn Krieg

Copyright 2006,  Louisa Howerow

Louisa Howerow's work has appeared in American, British and Canadian publications.  Her most recent poetry was published in Canada in FreeFall Room,  and The Nashwaak Review.   "At the Corner of Richmond & Main" first appeared in Misunderstandings Magazine,  vol. 3.

<< Previous      Contents      Next   >>