Ingrid Bergman Poem

Ingrid’s New World

She was different, literally, in our college town; she’s a Technicolor dream now.

She was different.
A silhouette in black and white.
Two dimensional, almost
in our vibrant world
no one seemed to notice
her beauty in grayscale.
No one paid attention
lost in a haze of five cent Jacks

literally,
a siren of the screen.
A stranger in our scene.
In our world,
her beauty is
out of place
in place and time,
she didn’t belong

in our college town;
her color starts to change
their minds
turned on to this new appearance,
fill her up with alcohol
and arrogance.
She smiles,
with each sip

she’s a Technicolor dream,
in flushed fuchsia cheeks
in green glassy-eyed lonliness
we knew we couldn’t be her
although we didn’t really know her,
in this place,
in our place,
we were all the same

now,
in full color
she stands
like the rest of us,
jaded
in a crowded room
waiting for someone to
take her home.