Leg Man

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Leg Man

Watching the subtle streaks
on the inner glass, only visible
under precise light and vintage,
I wonder who’ll appear on this blind date?

The wine is the skirt, the source
of those shapely apparitions.
Will her legs be as nice?
Her dress as purple?
Her song as delicate
as the crystal aria?

This isn’t the first glass
that’s sat beside me tonight
and I fear I’ll be too drunk
by the time she arrives.

This entry was posted in Poetry and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink.

15 Responses to Leg Man

  1. Lisa Tomey says:

    Do tell… nicely done.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. I love seeing the artists work 🤗

    Liked by 1 person

  3. mbrazfieldm says:

    Very cool thanks for sharing. Love the crispness and depth snap snap snap :)

    Liked by 1 person

  4. Bhagyashree says:

    Beautiful! You are a talented poet!🌸

    Liked by 1 person

  5. -Eugenia says:

    Well done!

    Liked by 1 person

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