Crimson Curtains
By Maureen Baraka Bonfante
Cool bursts push the crimson curtains forward.
Like a parent readying a child for a full swing.
First an inch, then six, fourteen, twenty.
Cool bursts push the crimson curtains forward.
Holding them out generously, like Magi bearing gifts.
A special summertime gift.
For the count.
One, one two, one two three.
Fading memories of endless hazy, hot and humid days.
Crimson curtains undulating divinely to cool heaves.
Their momentum rising like a pair of belly dancers
charged by the energy of adoring fans,
until a short respite collapses them back swiftly.
Pressing them gently upon the screen.
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