sweating in my July hat
your leg warm on mine,
your smile glowing near my cheek,
You give me
poems speaking truths,
that dance for me;
this bright November morning.
It was one of those nights when clouds hid the moon,
when you said, 'Come to bed, love, ' and I answered, 'Soon...'
as I opened the windows on Facebook and Myspace
and started to blog, and our love was in second place
Easy to give up, when you’ve been given up on.
Easy to step into the shade,
avoid harsh light that points up
the errors that you’ve made.
Has it all been said?
The Winter Wonderland,
the landscape under coverlet,
dreaming in a soft white bed.
Aging, I look in the mirror.
There I see my future
etched in lines that
my fingertips struggle to accept.
Turning her head she finds his sleeping face
a few inches from hers. A moment to hold
in her mind’s gallery. Immobile, peaceful,
open to her calm inspection,
White cloud’s hand turning
tipping over sky blue bowl,