Six Memories: Four Poems
I think of when she comes
shining, shining up the stairs,
hurrying, hurrying to end our separation.
Without ever being sated, we speak and share our thoughts;
looking at each other, we can't get enough,
yet gazing on each other, all hunger's forgotten.
I think of when she sits -
so proper, so proper, before gossamer curtains,
now and then singing four or five songs,
other times plucking two or three strings.
When she laughs, she's beyond compare,
and when she frowns, it's even more heartbreaking!
I think of when she eats
the look on her face as ...