Artifacts Poetry, Ray Hinman

Your Eyes Full of Week Ends

After de Chapultapec, the Sona Rosa.
Red neon, red velvet,chances uncrumpled and hung
......like trappings for the tourists,
I could see you looking over my shoulder, your eyes
flashing in the half-dark window; your eyes
......full of weekends and late hours.
Walking brick streets; everything made of glass,
of shiny metal, reflected the train ride north.
......Tracks converging,
thud-thudding into a continent crumpled to
a quarter its true size.
Town emerging ghost-like from the desert.
disappearing like the shifting faces. But your face
shone above it all, barely visible but shining,
......whispering something I could not understand.