Ron Lavalette
Janey Misses Mister Right

Janey thinks back on aches
she remembers as
blades between shoulder blades,
sudden and sharp, electrified
tingle and shudder of
nerve impulses running
the length of her left side,
and the long flame of tendons
torn without warning.
Janey has that history.

She lets it wash over her
in the shower, lets it flood
her temples, invites it in
and feels the rush
of red again, lingering
like her last lover’s final touch.
 
Ron Lavalette lives in the Northeast Kingdom of Vermont, land of the
fur-bearing lake trout and the bi-lingual stop sign.  He was the featured poet in the latest issue of Lynx Eye, and has appeared in other print journals such as Maelstrom, Pine Island Journal, and the Orange Willow Review.  He can be found online at New Works Review, Able Muse,
and Red River.  He lives to read his email at rdlbarton@netscape.net
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