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Cherry and Chestnut

Her hair, cherry and chestnuts,
across the expanse of the light-wood cafeteria
where empty chairs nurse at empty tables
like angular wooden babes, awkward with youth,
hungry for warmth and for diners.
And I imagine her, nursing a longneck,
while I imagine myself nursing on hers,
something smooth and sweet and innocent,
a root beer, perhaps, and old-fashioned,
the kind black-brown with a hint of red,
and backlit by the sun, highlit with waves
of gold, yet of bronze or of brass
that, though golden, are brazen
to dare upon tressess and near cheeks
where I would my fingers dance.
My reverie, cut short, and tucked behind her ear,
and not now courted by yellow light --
for the ceiling's pitch protects her, near the window,
from the too-warm cafeteria glow.
It is streetlamps that now play tease to my fingertips,
streetlamps outside whose soft white sneaks in just for her,
a part of the night and a part of the cold and
apart from the too-warmth of inside.
And the world she is part of, sky black, but paths and grass green,
with wrought-iron fence and her streetlamps --
a park in Paris, perhaps, or something cliche;
picture postcard, stamped, a stamp pressed too hard
against starless sky, leaving sharp shadow's relief
where ink remains on its ridges.
And I bring myself back to: I dream myself there,
in France and with root beer and her,
a mid-day and amid grass, somewhere
where I can read some of what she reads,
over her shoulder, I smell her hair, like and under
the trees are cherry and chestnut.

2 Nov 02

Rated 8 (7.6) by 1 users.
Active (1):
Inactive (15): 5, 5, 6, 6, 6, 7, 7, 8, 8, 8, 8, 8, 9, 10, 10, 10

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This sounds nice, but it went on a bit. It picked up at the end, but around stanza 3 I was getting really bored.
 — Moose

i couldnt ignore the pointy cultural reference to "nursing a longneck".
sounds as silly as going on and telling us it's a corona.
she might just as well chug a red stripe.
are long necks better?

 — unknown

longneck? I'm not firmly entrenched in alchohol culture. she's drinking rootbeer (in a specific kind of bottle). I was playing with the word 'neck'
 — unknown

and 'nurse'
 — unknown

unknown -- how about "And I imagine here, nursing at a bottle's neck"?
 — unknown

her. christ.
 — unknown

Nice, but perhaps a bit much. I drowned in the imagery and endless bombardment of color.
 — nzkiwi

Um, it definetly says Root Beer. Expressly, even. If you read past those two lines, you see that immediately. And when 'longneck' was used, I pictured a bottle, then later in the stanza, a bottle of root beer. I wouldn't change it, those two lines are my favorite. I really like this one. A lot. A lot a lot.
 — unknown

WAY too melodramatic
 — rocket-s

too melodramatic how so?
 — unknown

I still adore this. You're all blind.
 — unknown

line 3 is great, line 5 doesn't really need the second "for", does it? i think the juxtaposition would be stronger without it. the repetition of nursing is nice. 26, ; changed to a :, you think? 32, lose the "and"? these are all such minor things, personal preference really. it's so good overall. this ends so sweetly. the beginning i was a little confused on, but i'll leave later readings to decide whether that's a lack of sleep or the poem itself. this is good.
 — jade

Warms my heart. -Shattered
 — unknown

love at first read.
 — restless