Francine Witte
Nightstreet
Umbrella Man bobbling down the cobblestones. Dark jacket and hat under a shower of rainstars. Makes me think of you and the last time I saw you. The low rumble of love that used to be, that we tried and tried to get back. Me always thinking – this time will be different. But different never came. Me always thinking If only the sun, if only the sun. But the sun was ages and ages ago. Long before me standing here alone tonight watching this stranger walking down the street. Before the haze of the lamplight, gauzy and fog. Before his reflection on the rain-soaked stones Then his shadow. Then his ghost.
Bio
Francine Witte's poetry and fiction have appeared in Smokelong Quarterly, Wigleaf, Mid-American Review, and Passages North. Her latest books are Dressed All Wrong for This (Blue Light Press,) The Way of the Wind (AdHoc fiction,) and The Theory of Flesh (Kelsay Books.) Her chapbook, The Cake, The Smoke, The Moon (flash fiction) was published by ELJ September, 2021. She is flash fiction editor for Flash Boulevard and The South Florida Poetry Journal. She lives in NYC.