Monet’s Parasol Beauty

She was a woman built in technicolor:

a vibrant Monet's parasol beauty in a miniskirt with

indecencies etched into her eyelids and the promise of
galaxies mapped out on her lips.

Tell them we died

in late evening while the band still lingered

over their cocktails
and rhythms slid like molasses
over moon-tanned shoulders and under stilettos.

Cinnamon wafted from her hair as she tapped a heel.
I imagined what my mother would say
and I suppose we gathered glances
like some do sea shells
and held them just as tightly.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

I just felt like the original needed more OOMPH.

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Starward's picture

I am always amazed by how

I am always amazed by how powerful for evocative metaphors are.  And I will not mind repeating that as you continue to post more magnificent poems.


Starward

[ * /+/ ^ ]

C.Locke's picture

:D

:D


C.Locke

Starward's picture

[ * /+/ ^ ]

[ * /+/ ^ ]


Starward

[ * /+/ ^ ]

Cascade's picture

Monet's Parasol didn't come

Monet's Parasol didn't come to life for me near as much as this portrait of expressive wizardry!  Fantastic display of poetic artistry, dear poet. I just stumbled in not to long ago. I've been missing out. See you again soon.

 

C.Locke's picture

Thanks :D The original felt

Thanks :D

The original felt lacking to me so I wanted to rework it. I like this one much more. I'm glad you enjoyed it. 


C.Locke