The summer sighs. The night dreams.
Her white dress breathes into her fingertips,
reaching onto the keys that play that sharply etched etude.
Distracted, she waits through her playing
For what could come tomorrow, this evening,
At this door or the next-
And suddenly
With a glimmer-a gaze-she broke
An angered pace away
The sweet jasmine scent sickened her.
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This is good. Now, where are you? How are you the girl in the white dress? Answer the question with the poem, not a writing about the poem.
ReplyDeleteHow do I do that?
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