& tonight writing
after two days of unseasonable warmth
I remember how warm a woman feels
tho it was only in a dream
she was on top & we were not lovers
I know that much
she wore a stranger's face
nothing else about her was unfamiliar
but her face looking down on me
was unfamiliar
she smiled
bent forward & blew her breath
hot it was
upon my neck
but when she touched me
where she did
her fingers were cold as death
& I woke
I remember listening to the wind outside
I remember watching leaves cross the deck
like field mice
& then the rain began to fall
a mist at first
then large drops
against the windows
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 8 of 8
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What I love about this poem is the way you take ordinary, everyday things and make poetry of it...that is the sign of a true poet: to present the ordinary and the familiar in a fresh, original way. I love the melancholy, the nostalgia, the longing of this poem...it lingers in the eyes like the large raindrops against the window, slowly sliding down. Truly a beautiful poem that took me far away....
~ Nicolette
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absolutely one of the finest pieces i've ever read here on AP.
the state of melancholy you've attained here is all encompassing and massive.
what a joy to read
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I would that I could write more poems that elicit the responses that this one has. For you to call it one of thefinest pieces you have ever read on AP leaves me wordless to relay my feelings, but thank you will be my feeble attempt.
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wonderfull
It is nice when inspiration is pure... perhaps one could say that that is what dreams actually are - pure inspiration... and the night too... this poem has atmosphere, that is what the magical quality is...atmosphere.
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I also value your words, dewbee. Dreams are pure inspiration as you point our & that you touch upon the word: atmosphere as a magical quality encourages me...
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Special poem. It has that quality of whimsy to it, which, correct me if I'm wrong, is paticular to poets in general. It's playful and I like that. But it has something more.
I don't need to tell you what that is.
When you have it, you have it. I think this is one of the most enjoyable poems I've read by you.
J.
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Jaden, I value the comments you made on this poem. I am almost without words to relate how much your praise of this work means to me. It is good to hear from a reader when a particular poem hits as this one did you... Thanks so much...
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yay. poem.
amidst the chaos of a site upgrade. i seek solace in poem.
we have 60 degrees and last night thunder which will soon be appearing as a lovers voice in a cvillelisapoem. that is when i write it.
why where her fingers cold? is she the white goddess? i always think wimmmens fingers should be warm. but i'm a romantic and a dork.
i always think the leaves blowing across the road are mice. i do.
yay. poem.
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