Elaine Pentaleri



I sit where you might find me and where you might not.

The fountain spouts water.

You never remarked how the sun

catches the crest of spray;

there wasn’t enough time

and you were occupied with other things.


On the digital clock.

I wait for a chance encounter,

to show you the spray of water,

and how the sun catches its crest.

I want nothing but that.


I think you will not come.

I like the way you sway your arms when you dance.


I wonder what you might regret,

and how I could leave you happy


I go quickly. There isn’t much time.


You walk by, perhaps.

I asked you once if you were happy.


Later, alone, I go

out to a clean, well lighted place.

Praline crepes.

My tarot cards are blank.

Young boys are beautiful.

I do not wish I was someplace else.

Elaine Pentaleri is active as a reader and writer of poetry, with a particular interest in performance poetry. She was awarded the First Place National Contest Award for her poem “Still Life,” which appeared in the Midwest Writing Center’s 2009 poetry anthology, Off Channel. A second poem, “The Last of the Winter Laundry” was also published. She lives on 22 acres of field, woodland, and stream in Starksboro, Vermont where she an educator and word player, wife, and mother of two daughters.

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