Patti Masterman Poems

This is freedom, she said with a flourish
Having locked the door, with invisible key;
Long hours of solitude, safe in her study-
But bedroom it was, for a writer-to-be.
...

I dreamed of a loaded gun, pointed
Me, at the window one day;
Years later, I stood at the window-
But the gun aimed slightly, away.
...

It's delicious, when I'm here craving you,
but you- you are there- or there;
god only knows where-
...

His family came with him to the nursing home,
Spread themselves round his bed; he was irritable as wool-
Scratched by everything, stood there.
...

This poem is about nothing for certain
although it's been written
like it could be about something.
...

Life comes through that door,
When all is stilled and silent;
The angel's at the portal,
And breathing's grown too quiet.
...

When I'm old, I shall live on the Moon
With all of my friends, and we'll grow young again-
On the Moon, surrounded with wonder.
...

I sing my love, his face and mouth,
My compass of fair winds, due south;
He fills my sail, he plots my course-
He knows the seas are my true source.
...

Fear is the bell that you hear ringing,
At the end of a love; a day; a world;
Good things go bad, on a regular basis-
And that ringing bell's the last thing you heard.
...

Fear. My lips moving.
Saying something.
What is it? I can't hear myself, even my thoughts are muffled.
My heart beating.
...