issue 32 > poetry > holst-warhaft

There was music in his walk,
a silent rhythm he moved to,
one hip then the other
dropping like well-oiled parts
of a machine, then rising again.
The show was called Wanted,

Dead or Alive but I only
remember Steve McQueen
gun in hand, walking,
his parts in perfect harmony.






Also by Gail Holst-Warhaft:

Signor Eulisse in Nafplion