Of Hearts & Chance

WHEN
The moonshine tumbles
Out of swanfeather-colored
Cloudbanks & becomes
A lace glove touching
The furrowed brow
Of a distracted mountain,
THEN
A breath of brass, the curve
Of a saxophone, haunts
Red roses in a smoke-filled room,
A red velvet and white satin
Gowned room,
Where a gold-earringed man,
Black tarot card reader,
Turns up the Queen of Hearts.


copyright © 1983-2009 Lorena "Lobita" Wolfman