MODRIS

Modris sits on the warm doorstep,
Wearing a pullover knitted
By his blind sister.
He grins at fresh girls clip-clopping
In high, platform shoes
Down the sun-blurred street;
Tut-tuts at the old Indian
Doctor's sons playing
Football against a garage door;
Accepts homemade cake
From the young wife across the road;
Gives children hot mints;
Asks me about Keats.
Goes in about ten in the night.

I live three houses away.
Midnight, I can hear him coughing.

Peter Thabit Jones© 2015
Published in THE LIZARD CATCHERS by Peter Thabit Jones,
Cross-Cultural Comunications (2006)

 

 

 

 

 

 



Copyright © Adel Gorgy 2015 Photograph Modris, Keats and Her after Matisse (Woman in Blue)
Cross-Cultural Communications Art & Poetry Series Broadsides # 76

    
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