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Terminal Friday travellers Chat with strangers, Smile at children On their first flight, Glow a bit. Sunday sees tears and chewed lips. Alone Becomes honed to a focused point, And crowds contain no one Because they lack Someone. An airport's worth of people, With everything in common, Have nothing to say. 8:30 pm, 11/9/97 Copyright 1997 by Sharon J. Cichelli |
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In a Shoebox In the Hallmark store, I'm crying And I'm not sure. Surrounded by somebody else's sweet sentiments Neatly folded in half, I find a stranger has said What I've been forbidden, Eloquently. Trapped in cardboard aisles, I'm crying Because I'm sure Of things I can't tell you, but need to, I love These envelopes that match. If I tell you, I'll lose you Except I don't have you, Which is why In the Hallmark store, I'm crying. I want a stamp That gives me permission to know that you love me So I can say, "You, too." 12/97 Copyright 1998 by Sharon J. Cichelli |
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Walking Away The hardest Thing I've ever done is Stop asking for you. The hardest thing I've ever Tried Is stop Hoping. 1:25 pm, 12/29/97 Copyright 1997 by Sharon J. Cichelli |
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Rhyming I have characterized them: sickness habit addiction hysteria virus fever lymphocyte captor tsunami I have choked on metaphors, Suffocating. Yet all these years, there is you: Flannel. 1:05 pm, 12/17/97 Copyright 1997 by Sharon J. Cichelli |
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Betting the Fortune If I hold them, I have a nice set of dice. Cast, And I could lose everything Or Perhaps Win. 5:20 pm, 10/29/97 Copyright 1997 by Sharon J. Cichelli |
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a wish Entertaining me mories I'm not entit led to, I've conjured your kiss { a c r o s s l i f e t i m e s } I would, Just once, (restore a rose now dried to its supple color) Make it real. 11:40 am, 11/12/97 Copyright 1997 by Sharon J. Cichelli |
