THE TAP ON THE SHOULDER

I can still feel
(though it was years ago)
the tap on my left shoulder
as I sat in symphony hall
in Nashville
made by the woman
sitting behind me
as the intermission began.
She leaned over and said:
“You have beautiful hair”.

I met a man the other day
with similar hair.
We talked about it
and concluded that
that was the best thing
we had going for us —
that from the top of our heads
downward
we had less and less
to be pleased about .

This entry was posted in Poems. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply