Eulogy Baby


The Stingray’s wheels sped along the highway
  as fast as eight cylinders
  of Chevrolet engine could carry them.
Cruising transfixed, Malcolm saw the sunset
  ignite, subside and flare up again;
  approaching, receding, deceiving.
It conjured memories of the Alhambra,
  that sparkling white wedding they’d seen
  emerging from the Iglesia de Maria Elena
  into the embers of a chill February afternoon.
At least Monica had got to ride in a white car.
Striding into the Yellow Rose Saloon,
  the first bar they’d hit in downtown Amarillo,
  he ordered a highball for himself
  and an ‘under the volcano’ for Monica.
They clinked glasses and eyed each other.
Protagonists in different books,
  they wondered how many pages there were left to turn
  in this serendipitous chapter of collision,
  before they lost that loving feeling.





Julian Isaacs

This entry was posted on in homepage and tagged . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.