Those Cracks In Sidewalks Never Leave

Congress Park
1800’s

come, smile
look at me
you, with a parasol
held high above
your head -
such - white skin…

get closer,
no curves in
your spine, or
elsewhere on
your - person…
you,

sitting so straight
occupying wooden
chairs - scattered
along a path,
chairs of spindle…
match your back.

cross over,
I’m relaxing,
with my legs
crossed, back –
straight…
staring at you
while I suck my
pipe.

women…
all of you, carry
parasols – sexy
beautiful, but alone

Nancy Duci Denofio
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