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            Michael H. Levin: Poems and Prose  

PROPER ATTIRE

(For J.D.S. -- December 1978)


Etched

is the moment I reached

for that hot-pink cleaning slip

you were far too numb

to see.


The

cortège had arrived. You

were a small iron rod on cold

steps, void by

your side,


slip

stapled to black cuff

like a neon marquee. When

I reached to strip it, you

misread


the

intent – clutched

as from riptides

my hand.


The Raven's Perch, 18 Feb. 2021