Louise's Secret

I often wonder whatever happened to Harry.
The first one you thought about when planning a gathering,
the life of every party, the one you could count on
to dance with a lonely lady, or bolster a fallen ego.
There isn’t a woman in town whose heart didn’t skip at the sight of him
and the men to be like him how they in vain did aspire.

Then came the night when Harry met Louise.
She in a backless dress of red and five-inch stiletto heels,
coming through the door, chandellier earrings swaying
walking to the music’s beat with a think you can handle it attitude
the scent of Obsession wrapped around her like a seductive fog
overpowering the stench of overflowing ashtrays and spilled whiskey.

Harry froze on the spot, charmingly debonair as always
but with mouth agape he was speechless at the sight.
No one was surprised when once compusure was regained
he walked up to her and led her to the dance floor without a word
and she walked into his arms as if that's where she belonged.

I often wonder but only they know what happened then.
Soon after meeting they took off for parts unknown
and the irresistible charmer Harry was never heard from again.
It’s been rumored Louise had inherited a small fortune,
from a father who had paid her little mind,
and Harry was one who just got by, but how nobody knows.

Louise came back to town awhile back
dressed in what for her is conservative attire,
her Louis Vuitton luggage looking as tattered as she does.
Her hair once her crowing glory now shows a tad of gray,
it’s lost its glorious sheen and lays limply on her pale shoulders.

Day after day she stays within her dwelling,
doesn't speak with anyone,
has her simple fare groceries brought in,
caretakers for the palatial property come and go
and her porch light stays on all night.

On rare occasion she's spotted on her balcony
her head down, back to the world
a more solitary figure this town has never seen.
It appears that whatever happened to Harry
is Louise’s take it to the grave secret,
something we’ll always think and speculate about,
but none of us will ever really know.
because Louise, well. . . Louise isn't talking anymore.

© Marcia MillerTwiford