Face Down In History
Then the gypsies abandoned their camp
and the stars sank down to candles.
All I could see was what could be
surmised from circumstance,
a dancing bear with a head scarf
and one gold earring climbing into a cab.
I was never so young again.
The banished Polish princess
who shared her orange
spit the seeds out on the floor.
She said rule number one was simple,
like the valley between her breasts.
There was no rule number two.
Links:
[1] https://www.ablemuse.com/v8/bio/howie-good?s=8e01c07163477e9d32881048748275c1
[2] https://www.ablemuse.com/v8/poetry/howie-good/that-summer?s=8e01c07163477e9d32881048748275c1