Hope the phone bill isn't too high.
All he did last week was call
me from out of town.
Today he finally came home with
three red roses so I made him
twelve blueberry muffins.
For hours we kissed under moonlight
touching his mouth with my tongue...
that electric tongue.
I put his two suitcases away
telling him to please be careful
with my clean floor.
Maybe one million times
I've told that man not to
make such as mess!
After twenty years, who's counting?
We wouldn't let the
rain stop us…so we had
our picnic in the car.
Crowds evaporated
running with jackets
flung over their heads.
It grew more and more
quiet except for a few
susurrus raindrops.
Us alone drinking wine
walking over meadows
of grass, moist fragrant.
Your face so wet
sweet wine.
You are gone
and left
only silence.
Time and memory
of our time
fill this room.
Through dreams
I search
your face
outlined
in my mind
my fingertips
tracing your
forehead.
A voice on
the telephone
your deep voice.
No one sounds like you.
Live oak boughs
build archways as tips of trees
touch each other. What was
shaded green becomes
nocturnal shadow. A
crescent moon hangs from
heaven. Light tracing
foliage falls dropping
dusty deep upon ground.
Secrets lie inside the
edged shadow. Animals
hide under darkness
resounding through night
as leaves rustle.
All changing except
this pattern of what
is now formed.
