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Dreamwalking I crawled into the comfortable spaces in your life, tucked my knees under my chin, And you put your arms around me. You watched me while I slept. I took up your habit, integrated it, And your mind raced through formulae. You analyzed me while I slept. I made room for you in my pattern, thought about picket fences, And you felt confined and hot. You resented me while I slept. I leaned with all my weight in nightmares I couldn't dispel, I thrashed to awaken, But you were leaving me while I slept. I realize, Amidst autumn fog, Larks know nothing of love; Dawn is too cold. 12:15 pm, 10/14/97 Copyright 1997 by Sharon J. Cichelli |
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Rainbow Without warning, The sky went dark. Plants cling frantically to the Ground, Trying not to be noticed, While the trees are raped. Then Rain thunders from a sky that Had held daylight minutes earlier. Battering itself against windows and upturned collars, Savagely hurling slush and sleet, the Wind Rages. But intensity is transitory. Tears are finite. And as the fury exhausts itself, Scoured, The air smells fresh with earthworms, And I glisten. 3:27 pm, 11/3/97 Copyright 1997 by Sharon J. Cichelli |
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I waited in line, with ice in my eyelashes, To see Halley's Comet. But not seeing it now Doesn't make me sad. I don't think about Never seeing it again, Perhaps Because I still own the Oort Cloud. 8:10 am, 11/12/97 Copyright 1997 by Sharon J. Cichelli |
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Had It The toddler giggles with delight for the perfect manifestation of the beauty of surface tension, a captured rainbow bobbing on the breeze, and she reaches out her fat, pink, baby hands, and grasps it. 9:25 am, 10/22/97 Copyright 1997 by Sharon J. Cichelli |
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I Miss Your body, Your lips, Your skin on my skin, Your granite-blue eyes, Your lips that explore and tease, Your hands in my hair, Your back, Your scent, Your lips with their velvet secrets, Your voice, Your movement, Your panther skin, Your lips on my body, Your arms, Your hips, Your body, Since that's all I knew. 4:15 pm, 11/17/97 Copyright 1997 by Sharon J. Cichelli |
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When Memories Turn Fickle And Won't Yield What Has To Be True Since You Stayed In It For Eight Months I know It must have been good because now it hurts. 11:30 am, 12/16/97 Copyright 1997 by Sharon J. Cichelli |
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Surfing I'm sick of the radio Where everyone Noone Knows how I feel. Damn it, Heartbreak doesn't Rhyme. 1:30 pm, 11/18/97 Copyright 1997 by Sharon J. Cichelli |
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Vice A nicotine patch, Lacking the compunction Of a good, honest Cancer stick, You satisfied a craving Without providing a fix. 9:37 pm, 5/14/98 Copyright 1998 by Sharon J. Cichelli |
