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poetry by j matthew waters

Trying to Remember Her Name


I saw you board the greyhound
in Little America some forty-one years ago
a naturally beautiful young woman
if I had ever seen one

I had just turned seventeen
and was on my way to San Francisco
that is after changing my ticket
which was originally destined for Fresno
where I had planned to find work
and blend in with the college crowd

I’d already been confined inside my
self-contrived conveyance
for a full twenty-four hours
and even though most of my traveling
companions thought I was much older
you were the first to join our party
remotely close to my own age

The next stop was Salt Lake City
at the most brilliant station in the world
and lo & behold there we were
talking outside in the fresh January air
as if we’d known each other for years
you telling me about your life and death
operation at the university hospital
followed by me attempting to explain
why I’m continuously on the run




march two thousand twenty
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

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