Portland
It never snows here.
Now it is snowing.
The hotel bar is crowded.
No one’s on the streets.
He says,
“Come with me to my ship.”
He’s a freighter captain.
On board, he begs,
“Spend the night!”
On a freighter?
He takes me out to breakfast.
We wander in the snow.
Back home, my friend asks,
“Did you get laid?”
I laugh.
Throughout my life, I seem to experience what I call encounters: meeting people I never saw before and having some type of connection with them. Various things occur under these circumstances. Sometimes I keep in contact for at least a while with these people and sometimes not. This week I am going to post several of these poems. Here is the first one.
In Line at a Fast Food Restaurant
Caramel eyes
glowing in a brown face
Panama hat
Intricately carved silver cross
Crisp, snowy linen shirt
No collar
Slacks loose.
He’s lost weight.
I think,
“Gorgeous brown man.”
He says,
“In case no one has told you lately,
you’re gorgeous!”
He walks off to meet
the pregnant woman in the corner.
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