LONELY GIRL

Face of oblique glitter hears
Whispers that he done her wrong
Restless spirit, frozen
Hearing again their sad old song

Shine it all on, lonely girl
You know I’m kin in spirit
Face it now, lonely girl
That song, you know I can hear it

Neither of us had no loving since
January, February, or so
Why not climb off that lonely perch
C’mon – ready, steady, go

We’ll speak of days gone wrong
We’ll snicker at misbegotten men
We’ll hide our eyes from strangers til
We do it all over again

Find others to do us wrong
To keep us stuck in one place
But I’ll remember our big time out
Each time I look at your face

© 2013 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil

Ha! Betcha didn’t know the subject of my poem. It’s

… and yes, we did trip the light mediocre one night eons ago, back when the world was full of vague regrets but more possibilities.

The subject was the moon, courtesy of Izy at Imaginary Garden With Real Toads. Catch: We were not to place the moon in the sky, speak of night or starry night, etc. So I took my girlfriend off her perch and we talked it over. Sure, she’s seen same place, same time, every night, but now she does it by choice, because we got so plotzed on Margaritas, she doesn’t want to come down to earth again. My bad.

This is also “visible” at my poetic lunacy rompfest, Poetic Asides.  Amy