Innocenza Istarte


The cars sweep by like waves rolling in a shell,
The sun reflects from them bejewelled,
Like the myriad suns caught by those waves
You pass by.
Christ Jesus smiled at you before you were born
As he daubed my tired, uncomprehending and ungrateful eyes
With his spittle.

Pink blouse, white shorts
You avoid my gaze like I once avoided yours
But still rainbows end
Where your footprints melt.