Carlos

I’ve shared multiple versions of this poem over the years, and I’m presenting this latest revision today in response to the call from Ingrid, today’s host over at the dVerse Poets Pub, for some concrete imagery…

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CARLOS

I dreamed about you again
after all these years, Carlos;
dreamed of our midnight ramble,
of the suitcase we found, empty,
awaiting our roadside treasures.

We’re seventeen, we stop to take
a long and second look at each
and every item. We recognize
ourselves, and each the other
with what we find along the way,
with what we choose to keep:

a torn corner of a lost map, a red mop wig,
a mannequin’s head, featureless, with eyelashes;
a battered and rusty pipejoint.

I wake and look around me.
Everything has been stolen.

My suitcase is empty now.
Winter’s in the house.

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dVerse Poets Pub
Tuesday Poetics 
~ Concrete / Abstract ~
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