..................................................................................................................................................
The Poetry Of
Marie Gail Stratford.........
Ink
gather desire
battered like bruised fruit
trample her like grapes
until the dance leaves you
aching and breathless
collect fluid remains
separate the tears
distill the blood and with it
fill a pen
gather purity
press the remains of her existence
into a fine sheet
of linen stationery
set your pen
to her surface
stain her scarlet
with passion
Back When There Was Bedtime
The evening dark and soft
as kitten fur, the kettle
nearly sings me to sleep
before the teapot pours
her libation into my cup
and wisps of chamomile
weave themselves
into my hair.
Singles Nite at the Disco
music slows from dance to dirge
trips on grace, falls sharply flat
shatters
shards of mirrorball glass skate
across the disco floor, sweep
underfoot and wait for chance
to slice
the unsuspecting sole shining
in the spot light of a prospective
lover's eyes
