She was the happiest, and yet the loneliest, person I had ever met. There she stood, outside the Green Mill in Uptown, wearing a silver wig and a lilac dress. Her shoes – translucent. They glistened under the dim moon and the flickering light post. She touched my arm. And then his,
and his, and his, and his. Her smile was wide, and the crow’s feet that lined her small eyes were well hidden underneath caked-on makeup.
She just wanted to talk. And to listen to jazz with someone other than the bartender who knew her real name. She just wanted to dance. She wanted to swing and sway without a bottle. Now I remember her often when I hear the likes of Gershwin.
So, Violet – here’s to you.
Caterina Merenda is a Chicago native of Italian and Mexican descent. She is an avid musician, reader and museum-goer. Her work has been published on the websites of PSPoets and SpillWords Press.
© Caterina Merenda