Joyce Gregor


A quaint establishment had housed their union.
candle light and wine
to set time
in slow motion,
like the drizzle of rain
down the window glass,
holding the future at bay.
Both knew it would not last
this moment,
or the rain.
Time too, trickles
into the dust.

In the ladies room,
she freshened her lipstick,
blood red,
and blotted it on the napkin
still clutched in her hand,
then shoved it in her pocket
as she joined him again.
They drove in silence
to the airport, following
a twisted road through mist.

At the security check she kissed
him so hard the Green Beret tumbled
to the floor and they laughed,
attempting to make
light of the moment.

Still laughing,
from her pocket
she yanked the napkin,
"See, an imprint
of our last kiss. I plan
to frame it till we kiss
again. "

When he returned,
she spoke with the funeral attendant,
"Please before you close the casket would you lay this in his hand"

Joyce Gregor
Westcliffe, Colorado
JOYCE GREGOR, 68, Westcliffe, a coordinator for children and family ministries, works in social ministry and grant writing. Her poems have appeared in numerous magazines and anthologies. Joyce's photographer husband Ben often illustrates her words through his photos. Her zodiac sign is Pisces.