Tuesday, June 17, 2008

Myrtle

Every town has one
a crazy Myrtle who staggers
a little as she walks, and chatters
like the parakeets
that fly over in summer.

She'll mumble to herself,
stop you in the street
with a mad wave
and a shout or screech
guaranteed to sear your ear.

She wears long baggy socks, earrings
that dangle into another world,
red rouge on her cheeks
that doesn't go
with the purple striped cardi
tied around her waist.

She'll save a smile for you,
drag it up from somewhere
we'd forgotten existed, smile
and brighten your day
without thought.