Christine L. Reed
FRANCINE TIES NEWSPAPERS ON THE POOL ROOM FLOOR
Her hands were nimble, white bones clicking
the linoleum floor, one, two, three, flip.
She could lift stacks as high as her knees,
throw them like sand bags to the corner.
Pete used to tie the papers, his knots
could not quite be duplicated. They would
sip strong coffee from cracked mugs,
laugh about how they never read half of them.
One day, a call. Pete wouldn't tie again.
Francine sat like a lotus flower, calm,
the twine wrapped through her arms, each
stray straw piece brushing goosebumps
on ink-stained lily arms. Only daylight
and dust in the room beside her.
Location: Tranquility, New Jersey Date of Birth: 2/29/68 Email: PoetReed@aol.com Publications: Zuzu's Petals Quarterly, Kimera, Niederngasse, Thorny Locust, etc. Other: Editor of Maelstrom and Editorial manager of Moondance: Celebrating Creative Women