Car Park Reverie

There’s only a few spaces
left behind after curfew, and
the lines that divide left and right
aren’t dark enough to be
seen from this height.

I dreamed I’d glimpse you
tonight, from my spire,
leaving her with the weight
of a couple old, gold suitcases
and a green card grin.

Assumed you were aware,
I liked comparing our mugs,
sizing your pants and thighs,
admiring the way you
swallowed whiskey with pride.

Thought you knew I heard you
playing that song again and again.
Head tilted back on the rest,
drumming your heart
on the steering wheel crest.

So the day of the pull-out,
when all the cars emptied
leaving you naked in the lot,
your grin my companion,
my ghosted gaze caught

yearning for someone to trust,
then you looked up, saw
your quarantined Rapunzel vine
leaning over railing towards you
inviting you to climb.

Parking Lot by “The Weather Station”

9 Comments

    1. K.Hartless

      Thanks, John. I’d love to read your poem. Is it on your blog? This is complete fiction, other than sometimes I like to people watch in a totally non-creepy way. I don’t know if he’s brave enough to climb that high, but I like to believe he he might someday.

      Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s