she used to love me a lot

Just words and some Johnnie Cash song.

                                   She used to love me a lot

I saw my ancient love and she was drinking the whiskey straight, sitting alone at the Purgatory Inn in Ann Arbor. I told the waitress, send the pretty lady a drink of her want. The waitress looked into my eyes and she whispered. Johnnie, she knows, you are here. She is just waiting for you. I wouldn't waited for a coyote like you. You left Jenny three times for your damn war and now why did you return? Damn coyotes love the long highway, new kisses and the unknown. Did you learn anything Johnnie? I embrace the waitress, kissed her forehead and I told her. Dear Leona, I learn no-one win in war, we are born alone and we will die alone. I know now, love is life, life is love too late. I know, you can't return from the places you left. Once sweet Jenny, she used to love me a lot. Leona kissed his forehead and she whispered. Go to her.

I went to Jenny. She turned and she faced me. She whispered, good to see you alive and well dear Johnnie. I never stop writing you, did you receive my letters? She stood-up and she embraced me. I brought her closer and I told her. I have every letter you wrote in a box. I read them daily to stay human and I couldn't write you back. I was in Asia, Europe and Africa, playing soldiers and Red Cross missions. I saw little good to write about. I didn't want to add your burden. Jenny looked sad and she told him. I wanted to know if you are okay Johnnie. You were my sweetest friend once and you and I. Had learned life  conspired to make us sad.

                    I told her.

 Dear Jenny,

my blessing,

my sweetest days.

I never forgot you.

I followed my father's path,

I learn my father's sorrow,

I learn love is for the lucky.

I wasn't lucky dear Jenny.

She smiled and she told him. Same old Coyote. You believe a poem and a song can change our world. Old world doesn't want to be saved. Once we had the utopia of locked-doors and the sweetest long nights. I know now, we must bleed now to feel. Can you bleed? I kissed her lips, rolled my hands through her auburn hair and I whispered.

My greatest sin was leaving you,

my greatest sin was not keeping you safe.

I learn war cost too much.

Now I face you, my beautiful Jenny.

My hazy memory is remember every kiss, every embrace.

I know you have become the moon and I am the sun.

We keep running away from each other.

Jenny put her hands to my lips and she whispered. You talk too much Poet. Let's drink some more whiskey, find my home. Strip bare and show real face. No more talking, let's dance to the old songs and re-open old wounds. Maybe I can forgive you?

Two people holding tightly, drinking whiskey at the Purgatory Inn. Two people praying for a miracle and learning forgiveness.

                                    Dancing Coyote

Author's Note

Just words.

Reviews

[barleygirl]

"Purgatory Inn" is one of those classic names like "Hotel California" . . . you could do a whole longer story about this haunted place where lovers crash & burn, but like phoenix, rise from the ashes, too! That's what your story reminds me of . . . you have so much charm, even after being a coyote, the girl takes you back with open arms! *wink! wink!* This is the first time I ever thought about your handle "Coyote Poetry" as being the poetry of coyotes . . . as in, men who are scoundrels . . . I can see how that theme is often present in your poems! (((HUGS))) Fondly, Margie

[Coyote Poetry]

Thank you dear Margie. I told my daughter, all men are dogs and coyotes.

[Chris Shaw]

Your lady friend was right in my opinion Coyote. All good wishes

Chris

[Coyote Poetry]

She was right dear Chris and thank you for reading. I do appreciate.

[Neville]

An amazing write as always John C............ Real Magic sir.... N

[Coyote Poetry]

Thank you Neville. You can never return to the place you began at.

[Neville]

Tho even better when re-read my friend.. N

[jacob erin-cilberto]

i think she is write...poems won't change our world...but they surely give words to the feelings about it.
j.

[Coyote Poetry]

She was right. World doesn't want to be saved and thank you Jacob for reading and the comment.