Willie and Savanna Jones

She wore her lipstick red without regret

Heaven was a simple place where quiet was kept

Savanna slept near a set of tatty railroad tracks,

each ran parallel . . . to and fro,

as if they knew in advance witch direction they should go,

but she never heard them say

So, mislaid trains whistled by in her dreams

waking only darkness with their pointed beams

Willie’s boyish jeans would be washed by Sunday

That was when his dusty hat returned to eat dinner

She wore her lipstick red without regret

He drove countless miles to see her in a flimsy cotton sundress

Heaven was a simple place where quiet was kept,

So,

They whispered their pressing affection like warm secrets

touching toes under the table

He left his vigilant shoes at the door

Willie’s loaded walk polished the bashful floors

His reflection sparkled in her readied eyes near a set of tatty railroad tracks

Each running parallel . . . to and fro

as if they knew in advance witch direction they should go,

but she never heard them say

So,
mislaid trains whistled by in her dreams

Willie’s boyish jeans would be washed by Sunday,

for Savanna wore her lipstick red without regret