Student Union

Around the room, large as gymnasium,
couches lie scattered like children’s toys,
covered in student bodies, blue-gold brocade.
I sit in high-backed chair, stare through tall arched
windows that stretch to the ceiling above
open French doors. Wrought iron banisters
protect round wooden tables and children
from falling to tufted grass twenty feet below.
Avoiding my gaze, tomorrow’s breeze says
hello, its breath smells of cinnamon,
unread text books, last night’s sex, and it
reaches out a muddy hand to caress
silken cheeks that have never known a razor.
A young man closes heavy red curtains that
change to orange as sunlight filters through.
He sits at grand piano, music marches
across the keys, matching the painting behind
his head – waves crashing on Oregon
shore, high rocky cliffs, green water strong.
The notes bending, treacherous, triste,
something I recognize but can’t name.
The young man stops playing, brushes face with
back of hand. He stands in front of window,
through a break in the curtain
light slices his body in half.

ReadWritePoem Prompt - Day 26

Today, before you start writing, you need to do some digging. Dig through your backpack, purse or desk drawer and find a scrap of poem written on an old envelope or bank deposit slip. Unearth an old journal or notebook.

Find a poem that you started, or perhaps one you abandoned. Read it through. Highlight the lines or phrases that please you. Do not cross anything out (yet)! You now have two choices: finish the poem or take the parts you like and begin a brand new piece.

I started this poem last August on a trip to Oregon State University in Corvalis.