Featured Poem: Pictures of Me

Val Weaver
Des Moines Branch, Iowa

Pictures of me…

taken in the ’70s, ’80s, ’90s
show me always with a cigarette in my hand

held between
the fore and middle fingers
the epitome of
sophisticated style.

I turn the pages
of the photo albums
and crave the comfort of
that mentholated burn.

Bob Pace plays something funky in the background…

I inhale.

Pick up the glass of Jack and seven,
hold it to the candle
and gaze into its
soft amber
glow…

I exhale.

And take a sip.
Love the sound of ice
against the glass.

I inhale…
    
My lover says something strangely funny and
I laugh
smoke drifts across the table into his eyes.

I cross my legs, lean forward
and say, “Sorry.”

I take another puff

and I am the star

of my own

1940s

Bette Davis

movie.



3 comments

  1. Dianne Glass says:

    Really enjoyed that! Your words immediately rendered an entire vivid scene with colorful characters in my mind. Beautifully done. Thanks for sharing a few moments in time.

  2. Val, I love this. It reminds me of the elegant way my mother smoked when I was a child. You have captured perfectly the languid sophistication of the ambience and the movements. Thank you for sharing.

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