St. Louis Woman

In a warm-lit St. Louis night
You drew me into a flame.

Monday at BB
Your loose-knit top
Stares me in the face,
White-velvet
In a black-silk cage.

I call for Monk and a tango.
Catherine D. Snow
Comes up fast—
You're hot, girlie!

On an afternoon of morning
The dark is rising.
They’re here.
Do you feel it?

You lay cards,
Look for signs;

The Second Child,
He is the reason.

You’re tired.
It won’t be long.