Old Woman in a Housecoat
An old woman in
a floor-length housecoat
had become sunset
to me, west-facing.
Turquoise, sage, or rose,
she leans out of her
second floor window,
chin slumped in her palm,
and gazes at the
fenced property line
between us, the cars
beached in the driveway,
the creeping slide of
light across shingles.
When the window shuts,
dusk becomes blush and
bruises, projected
on vinyl siding.
Housecoats breathe across
the sky like frail clouds.
Copyright Credit: Reprinted from Cream City Review, 2004, by permission of the author, a writer and journalist living in Boston. Poem copyright © 2004 by Georgiana Cohen.
Source: 2004