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Black
by Kate ZimmermanThe air is loaded with exhaust and dust
The aura of black leather, chains, and rust
Threatening as the churning of the bikes
Rippling motors and guys with girls for a night
It's easy to go unnoticed in this hell
But there's a shape in the corner
And he's looking me over well
He walks over to stake his claim
No need to bother telling me his name
Leaning in, he whispers, "You alone?"
Trying not to shiver at the grimness in his tone
"You don't look like you're a regular here.
But I'm willing to take a chance
That you're more than you appear."
We climb on his bike in the cold
It's a icy silence that we both know
Riding on in darkness past payphones
He observes, "You really don't want to go home."
Later that night his words fill my head
But he really never knew me
And couldn't know what he said. 05/25/2006 Posted on 07/06/2011
Copyright © 2025 Kate Zimmerman
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Timothy Wilson on 07/08/11 at 06:25 PM Wow! Reading this was a thrill. I felt a connection to your tone in this piece. I love the recklessness and sort of an empty longing that is portrayed. It had a great story-telling aspect to it, and was an all around knock-out.I even loved the title. Good work keep it up. |
| Posted by Paul Lastovica on 07/10/11 at 01:40 PM this is really lovely; I read it as if I were an observer in a different corner. |
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