As She Walked Away

Somehow I could tell she wasn’t acting

as she turned her face into the camera and 

a liquid glimmer caught light number two,

the one that Jerry set just so, to angle

feathery gold fringes of the hairdo

she arranged to get the night before.

Could she sense the extra pause? I faltered

with the dialogue, lines over-practiced

in between sips of neglected brandy

cross-legged on my sectional settee.

Late distraction when I heard her breathing

over in the corner, closed eyes smiling.

That was when I had to ditch my doubting

and admit my acting had to shut down

soon as this unending shoot wrapped up,

then I would tell her of the other writer

and the script my brain scanned unrelenting,

in between the wooden words we quoted.

Finally, our speeches were expiring

and the hip director beckoned blithely

for the cameraman to zoom in slow,

very slow, so slow as we sat clutching

for that final shot, then as we parted, 

she was magic as she walked away.

MNA

4/6/2023