    
Mik3y
Starlite Member
Username: Mik3y
| | Posted on Saturday, April 05, 2008 - 09:30 pm: | 
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It could be, Christopher, from your leafed-in house
In Santa Monica where you lie and wait
You hear outside a sound resume
Fitful, anonymous,
Of Berlin fifty years ago
As autumn days got late-
The whistling of their girls to young men who
stood in deep dim street, below
Dingy facades which crumbled like a cliff,
Behind which in a rented room
You listened, wondering if
By chance one might be whistling up for you,
Adding unsentimentally
'It could not possibly be.'
Now it's a stricter vigil that you hold
and from the canyon's palms and crumbled gold
It could be possibly
You hear a single whistle call
[Come out]
[Come out into the cold.]
Courting insistent and impersonal.
Michael william James
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