Old Birds Long for Morning
After Edward Hopper’s Nighthawks
In the next block from the diner, an old man
in an undershirt waits at his window, watches
early shadows inch up sidewalks.
Sun’s not far behind. Flat paint, green,
flakes off woodwork around storefronts.
A cash register on a counter sits alone,
empty. Up top, windows cut raw
in a straight rank along orange stucco.
And the shades—frayed, army-green canvas—
hang any old way at sloppy half-masts, hide
whatever they hide of hollow, purple-blue rooms
as he waits and little-by-little the block lightens.
The barber shop down-street from the diner
opens at nine on Sundays so dads and sons
can go shiny to church. It’s been a while since
he had his hair cut. And the damned ear hairs.
Alice Campbell Romano‘s first book, a chapbook, was awarded one of The Comstock Review‘s three rare honorable mentions last year, and then won C&R Press‘s Summer Tide Pool Contest — C&R will publish THE CONSOLATION OF GEOMETRY in September. Alice lived 13 years in Rome, Italy, turning Italian sceneggiature into American movie scripts. She married a dashing Italian; they raised their family in Rome and in Los Angeles. Alice is a published and anthologized poet who wishes she’d devoted her writing time to poetry earlier: she says that to write poetry helps her cope with the poet’s inevitable “guilt and regret,” (see Ellen Bass), at least while Alice writes.
The Marbled Sigh 